Purrfect Fool. Purrfect Fitness. Purrfect Setup

I now remembered how Brutus’s turtle had recently escaped a pond, and had roped Brutus into finding this pond and freeing her friends from that selfsame pond.

The turtle theme seemed prevalent lately, and as I hopped up from my perch, back to street level, I wondered once more where Brutus could possibly be.

There is only one pond in Hampton Cove, located at our local park, and since I didn’t have much else to do, I decided to wend my way there, and hopefully find my friend. I needed to tell my tale of woe to someone, and Brutus would do as well as the next cat.

And as I set paw in the direction of the park, a loud voice alerted me someone wanted speech with me. When I looked back, I saw that it was Dooley, and it honestly warmed the cockles of my heart to see him.

“Max!” he said as he drew level with me. “Why did you leave all of a sudden?”

“I didn’t think I was needed anymore,” I said. “Shanille made it clear she didn’t want me to attend the wedding, so I just figured I’d leave you guys to it.”

“But I don’t want to be in that wedding either, Max. I don’t want to walk behind Gran and Wilbur with flowers in my hair.”

“You don’t?”

“Of course not! I want to be in Odelia’s wedding, and in Uncle Alec’s wedding, if he ever decides to go ahead and propose to Charlene, but I don’t want Gran to marry Wilbur Vickery, and I told Shanille.”

“And what did she say?”

“That it’s not up to us cats to say who can or can’t get married, and if Gran and Wilbur have decided to engage in the holy sacrament of matrimony, no power on earth can or should come between them, and most definitely not a silly little cat like me.”

“Oh, dear.”

“I said that if Gran decides to get married, I’m going to ask Odelia to adopt me, and Gran can go and live with Wilbur without me.”

I smiled at my friend.“That’s very brave of you, Dooley.”

“Do you think so?”

“Of course. Gran won’t be happy her cat decides not to follow her to her new home.”

“Well, that can’t be helped,” said Dooley with a look of determination in his eyes I’d rarely seen there before. “I’m going to stay with you, Max, and with Brutus and Harriet. We’re the fearsome foursome, and no one is going to separate us—certainly not Wilbur.”

I laughed at the fierceness with which he spoke.“Looks like your mind is made up.”

“Yes, it is. I don’t want to wear flowers in my hair, Max—no way!”

“What about Harriet? She’ll want that tiara, I’m sure.”

“Well, she can have her tiara. And if she wants she can go and live with Wilbur and call Kingman her brother from now on—but not me!”

“Let’s hope she doesn’t,” I said. I didn’t want to break up the band either. And even though Harriet can be a handful sometimes, I would miss her dearly.

“What were you doing outside that shop just now, Max?” asked my friend.

“Oh, just looking. I saw Johnny and Jerry messing about in there, so I just figured I’d see what they were up to.”

“Pete’s Pet Paradise,” he read from the sign on the window. “Are they selling pets?”

“Yeah, looks like. Turtles, mainly, it would seem.” And I told him about the thousands of little turtles in the basement of the shop. “Could be that they’re breeding them and selling them to local seafood restaurants.”

He gave me a look of shock.“Eat turtles! But why, Max?”

I shrugged.“I guess some people like that sort of thing.”

And as we set paw for the park, Dooley reiterated the need for us to break up the upcoming wedding of Gran and Wilbur, and also of Marge and Randy. In other words: we had our work cut out for us.

Chapter 34

As Harriet walked back home, she was experiencing a welter of emotions. On the plus side, she was undoubtedly going to be the star of Gran and Wilbur’s wedding. And with any luck she might be able to pull off the same hat trick at Marge and Randy Hancock’s wedding—and Odelia and Chase’s matrimonial endeavor.

On the minus side of the equation, if Gran did indeed get married, Dooley would have to go and live with her and Wilbur, and even though Dooley annoyed her sometimes, she also loved the silly cat to bits.

Also on the minus side was the fact that Brutus was still missing, and now Max and Dooley had walked out on her, leaving her and Shanille alone to handle the wedding preparations. Then again, wasn’t it always that way: when it came down to it, it was always the women who had to deal with these matters, while the men went down to the bar to have a drink with their buddies.

Though she doubted whether Max and Dooley were at the bar, and neither was Brutus.

She arrived home just in time to see Gran park her car at the curb and get out.

“Gran!” she said. “I’m going to be wearing the nicest, cutest little tiara for your wedding. I’m going to look like the belle of the ball—though I won’t steal your thunder, of course. The bride should always be the center of attention—even I know that.”

Gran looked down at her, a look of confusion on her face.“What are you talking about? What wedding?”

“Why your wedding with Wilbur, of course. It’s going to be just grand. Shanille has a lot of ideas and so have I. So we should definitely get together to discuss them. I’m thinking a nice tux for Wilbur, and white for you. Now I know that white isn’t the obvious choice for one who’s been married before, and has two adult children of her own, but—”

“Harriet, hold on. I specifically told Max and Dooley last night that I’m not getting married—I mean, me? Getting married to that lecherous pipsqueak? Never in my life!”

“But we saw you. We saw you and Wilbur hugging at the store.”

“Yeah, he took me by surprise,” Gran grunted annoyedly. “But I can promise you right now it’ll never happen again. He can apologize until he’s blue in the face, but I’m never going out on a date with that man again, and if he thinks he still has a place in the neighborhood watch he can think again. He’s out.”

“But—”

“Look,” said Gran. “I’m never getting married again, Harriet. I did it once and it didn’t become me. Married life may suit some people, but I’m too attached to my freedom to go and hitch my wagon to a deserving or undeserving male ever again. Got that?”

“But what about my tiara?”

Gran laughed.“You can wear your tiara as much as you want, darling, but it won’t be at my wedding.”

“So maybe I can wear it at Marge and Randy’s wedding?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Chase saw them together. They were buck naked and hugging and Marge was crying tears of joy.”

“Oh, God,” said Vesta with a groan. “I’m too old for this nonsense.”

“We’re going to try and stop the wedding, though,” said Harriet. “So there’s still hope. And Lil Ran said he’s going to help us, even though he seems to think his human is not into women but into men instead. But clearly he’s mistaken, as Randy is interested in Marge, and Marge is a woman, right?”

“Last time I checked she was,” said Gran with a bemused smile. “So you’re going to try and stop this wedding, huh? And how are you going to do that?”

“We haven’t really come up with a plan yet,” said Harriet. “First we wanted to sabotage your wedding, but then I liked my tiara so much I was starting to have second thoughts about my commitment to the plan. Now I’m thinking that the opportunity to wear a tiara isn’t worth having to go and live with Randy at his mansion, and for Dooley to have to go and live with Wilbur above the store.”

“I told you, Harriet. No way in hell am I getting married to that man.”

“Oh, right,” said Harriet, who had a hard time following the plot. People were getting married, then they weren’t getting married, then they were getting married again. Who could blame a poor cat for getting all confused! “So you’re not getting married but Marge is,” she said, nodding to herself. “Got it.”

“The only reason I was over at Wilbur’s is I wanted to talk to Kingman,” said Gran, leaning against the car and folding her arms. “I thought he might be able to tell me where Brutus was. But no such luck, I’m afraid. He says Brutus went off to look for turtles in a pond and free them. Though he secretly thinks Brutus went off on a toot because of the wedding.” She shook her head. “So many weird stories doing the rounds. I think it’s time for Odelia to set the record straight. Print an article in the Gazette before this whole thing gets out of hand.”

“So… did you find Brutus?” asked Harriet, trying to decode Gran’s stream of words.

“Nah. I checked the pond. No Brutus anywhere in sight—or turtles for that matter. I even asked the park ranger and he says there have never been turtles and there never will be turtles at the park. The ducks would eat them, and they can’t have that.” She sighed deeply. “I really don’t know what that cat is up to, honey.” She glanced down at Harriet. “Did you have better luck?”

“No, like I said I was down at the church for wedding prep,” said Harriet, a little shamefaced now.

Gran smiled.“Don’t worry. We’ll find Brutus. He can’t have gotten far, and at some point someone must have seen him, right?”

Harriet nodded.

“Okay, let’s go,” said Gran now, and opened the car door for Harriet to hop in.

“Go where?” asked Harriet as she did as instructed. Probably to go look for Brutus.

“To the vet, of course,” said Gran. “I haven’t forgotten about your eyes, honey, and Vena is expecting us.”

“Gran—noooo!” said Harriet, but too late. The door was already closed. And locked!

Chapter 35

Tex had been brooding all day about the stuff Randy had told him that morning, and as he got ready to leave his office, he thought he’d finally hit upon the way to proceed.

Marge was feeling there was a distinct lack of spark in their marriage—a lack of romance. So he’d simply reinstate a tradition they’d dropped years before: the tradition of their weekly date night. They used to go out on a date once a week when Odelia was little. Sometimes they’d have dinner, other times they’d go for a walk along the beach.

But the tradition, as so many things, had slowly been forgotten when life became more hectic, and now was probably a good time to get back on track.

So he’d called the Hampton Cove Star and booked a table for two, and on his way home had dropped by the flower shop to pick up a bouquet of long-stemmed white roses, and as he prepared a speech in his head, he was starting to perk up a little.

Randy’s words had come as a shock to him. It’s not much fun to hear that your wife is harboring second doubts about her marriage—especially when she’s decided to confide in another man, even though that other man wasn’t interested in Marge at all—or so he’d assured Tex.

But when the doctor arrived home, and didn’t find Marge at the house, or in the backyard, he took a firmer grip on his bouquet and figured she was probably next door.

So he set foot for his daughter’s place. And when he arrived there, he was more than a little bit surprised when he found not only his wife, dressed to the nines in a gorgeous low-necked dress, her hair done up and her face made up to perfection, but also Randy—and they were clearly having a very cozy early dinner—just thetwo of them!

“What’s going on?” he asked, though it was pretty obvious what was going on!

“Oh, Marge invited me to dinner,” said Randy with a smile as he unfolded his napkin and placed it on his lap. “I hope you don’t mind?”

He realized he was gawking, and made a conscious effort of reeling in his lower jaw, then cut a hurt look at his wife.

“I just figured Randy has been through so much these last couple of days, he could use a nice dinner,” said Marge, looking a little uncomfortable under her husband’s gaze. She took in the flowers. “Are those… for me?”

He glanced at the flowers, then back at the scene, and realized Randy had been playing him for a fool: he’d assured him he had no designs on Marge when all the while he was preparing to wine and dine her to within an inch of her life, and make her his!

And worst of all, they were doing it in Odelia’s house, and of his daughter and her boyfriend there was no sign, which meant they were both in on it, too!

And suddenly the mild-mannered doctor, who never raised his voice even when his most obnoxious patients made his life hell, suddenly felt his blood going on the boil.

But since words failed to adequately express how he was feeling just then, he merely threw down the flowers, then jumped up and down on top of them a couple of times, then stalked off, even as Marge yelled,“Tex, wait!”

But he wasn’t waiting for no one. His family had decided to indulge—no,encourage this romance behind his back, and as far as betrayals go, that was probably the worst kind of betrayal a family man like Tex could have imagined in his worst nightmare.

And then he was grabbing his car keys and stalking out of the house. He didn’t know where he was going, but it was most probably going to be very, very far away from here!

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

“Oh, dear,” said Marge as she saw her husband stomp off like Bruce Banner after having morphed into his alter ego The Incredible Hulk for the first time that episode. “He doesn’t seem happy about this, Randy.”

“Just leave him be. He’ll get over it,” said Randy as he sipped from his glass of wine.

Marge looked down at the trampled roses—long-stemmed white ones, her favorite—and felt bad about not telling her husband about this impromptu date with Randy. She probably should have warned him, but had completely forgotten about it once Randy had told her he’d be delighted to sit down for dinner.

She still wasn’t over her schoolgirl crush on the man, even though she was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe Odelia was right, and the man wasn’t into women at all.

The sequined shirts and shorts should have given her a clue.

“So has your daughter gotten any closer to solving this mystery of my poisoning?” asked Randy now.

“No, not really. She talked to your associates, your staff, and your family, but they all basically told her the same thing: you lost your millions years ago, and there is simply nothing to gain from blackmailing you.”

“Oops,” said Randy with a grimace. “Looks like my big secret is out then, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” said Marge with a warm smile at the man. “Is it also true that you have spent a fortune on pool boys, gardeners, masseurs and other assorted eye candy?”

“Guilty as charged,” said Randy as he looked down with a touch of shame.

“And another fortune on nose candy?”

“Yeah, I’m not without my vices, Marge,” said Randy. “But then you probably already knew that about me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” she said with a sigh. “Though I decided to turn a blind eye, you being my hero and all.”

“I’m not much of a hero, sweetie,” said Randy now, patting her hand. “You know who’s the real hero? Your husband Tex. As a doctor he’s done so much for people.”

“You’ve done a lot for people, too,” she argued. “You’ve been instrumental in helping people stay fit and healthy, and that’s nothing to be scoffed at, Randy.”

“No, I guess I have done my share for the common good,” he admitted. “Look, I’m not a saint, Marge. I have pretty much wasted my entire fortune, and there isn’t much left in the once overflowing Hancock coffers. To the extent I can’t possibly pay the ten million these people are demanding from me. In fact I should probably look upon this demand as a compliment. They seem to think I’m good for that kind of money, but I’m not.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m still hoping your daughter will come through for me.”

“Chase told me the blood work revealed nothing. No poison was found in your blood, which means it must be a very sophisticated toxin, if even the NYPD lab wasn’t able to find any trace of it. Which also means they can’t come up with an antidote, I’m afraid.”

“This was supposed to be a nice dinner to cheer me up, Marge,” the fitness star said with a rueful smile. “But so far all you’ve managed is to dampen my mood even more than it already was.”

“I’m sorry. But there’s no sense beating about the bush, is there? My daughter has come up empty-handed, and so has Chase.”

“Has his NYPD contact discovered nothing about the people who sent me that video?”

“That’s the weirdest thing,” said Marge. “They did, but the IP address simply reveals that it was sent from your home computer. Which led them to suggest that either a member of your staff is behind this, or that these are some highly skilled criminals, who’ve managed to hack your networkand mask their own IP address by rerouting all of their communications through yours.” She shrugged. “I’m just repeating what Odelia and Chase told me. I’m not a computer expert, and it all sounds pretty out there for me.”

“No, I understand what you’re saying. Perfectly. It just tells me these are some very clever crooks, and it’s going to prove extremely hard to nail them.” He held up his glass. “But I have faith in your daughter’s detecting skills, Marge. Otherwise I wouldn’t have asked her to look into this for me—effectively placing my life in her hands.”

“I hope she won’t disappoint you,” said Marge, though she was starting to feel that time was running out for the poor fitness star. She raised her glass and clinked it against his, then both took a sip.

“So tell me,” he said, “how did you and Tex meet?”

And just like that, he’d turned the tables on her, and was steering the conversation back to her private life, and away from his.

Chapter 36

Jerry Vale surveyed his domain and saw that everything was as it should be. Thousands of little turtles were swimming in very large tanks containing enough water to fill a semi-large pond. Never in his life had he thought he’d become the custodian of a turtle farm, but there he was, at the heart of just such an endeavor.

Johnny Carew, his slightly bone-headed associate, came stomping down the basement stairs. The thickset no-neck crook announced,“I closed the shop, Jer. The last customer was a little girl looking to buy a goldfish for her brother. I said goldfishes shouldn’t be kept in tanks but swim in the ocean, and she agreed and I sold her a gerbil instead.”

“You shouldn’t argue with the customers,” Jerry grunted. With his ferrety features and his slim build he looked exactly the opposite of his partner in crime, but then he had always been the brains of the partnership, whereas Johnny was the dumb brawn. “If a customer wants a goldfish you sell them a goldfish. The customer is always right.”

“Someone asked me if we sell crocodiles yesterday,” said Johnny as he stood there, the tips of his fingers practically grazing the concrete floor. “Should I have sold him a crocodile, Jerry? Because last time I checked we don’t sell no crocodiles.”

“You can only sell them what we’ve got,” said Jerry. “So if some idiot wants to buy a crocodile you tell them to take a hike.”

“Oh, okay, Jer,” said Johnny, nodding as he took this in. “Take a hike. I can do that.” He glanced around at the five large tanks filled with turtles. “So how are our little babies?”

“They’re not our babies, idiot. Don’t get attached to them. They’ll be out of here soon, and I don’t want you blubbering all over me, crying about how they took our babies.”

“But I like them, Jer. They’re so sweet, don’t you think? With their little feet and their little heads and their little eyes.” He smiled a goofy smile as he spoke these words.

This was exactly what Jerry was afraid would happen. That the big lug would get all emotional about this new business of theirs. The same thing had happened when they worked for Chazz Falcone, that well-known New York real estate tycoon. When Chazz told them to put the squeeze on some of the tenants of a building he wanted razed to the ground, Johnny, instead of using his bulk to put the fear of God into them, had wept big tears when they told them their sob stories of woe and misfortune. The guy might look like a grizzly, but unfortunately had a heart of gold and a brain the size of a peanut.

“Look, these aren’t our turtles, Johnny,” he said. “Just get that through that thick skull of yours, will you? We’re just the help, hired to do a job. As soon as the job’s done, we’re out of here.”

“But what will happen to the turtles, Jer? They’re not going to hurt them, are they?”

“Who cares?”

“I do, Jer. Will you just look at them. So cute.” He’d picked up one of the turtles who’d apparently escaped its tank and tickled it behind its head as it crawled around on his ham-sized hand.

“Will you put that thing back,” growled Jerry.

“It’s not a thing, Jer. It’s a living, breathing creature. A miracle of nature.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” said Jerry, and headed for the stairs. “Just put it back before it escapes,” he said. “And clean up in here, will you? It stinks!”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Johnny watched his associate storm up the stairs and sighed.“He didn’t mean all that,” he told the little turtle on his hand. The turtle was looking up at him with its teeny tiny eyes, listening intently. “Jerry’s not a bad person,” he explained. “But he’s been associating with bad people all his life. And also his wife left him, and it’s made him cranky.” He tickled the little turtle behind the ears and smiled. “Cute,” he said, and placed it back into one of the tanks. “Now go play with your friends, little fella,” he said encouragingly and watched as it swam deftly to the nearest bit of flotsam and jetsam that Johnny recognized as a piece of fish food, and gobbled it up eagerly. “Way to go,” he said fondly, and took a sniff.

Jerry was right. There was a pervasive smell down there, and it couldn’t possibly be the turtles, as they’d installed state-of-the art filtering systems to keep those tanks clean.

And as he sniffed the air, walking around and trying to determine the source of the smell, he thought it smelled a little bit like… cat poo.

Which was impossible, of course. No cats were down there.

He did remember that the basement window had been open before. He’d closed it, not wanting his precious turtles to catch a cold from the draft. Had a cat managed to sneak in? But that would mean the poor creature was stuck there, without food or water.

He followed his nose and soon arrived at a pile of old fish tanks the previous owner of the pet store had placed there. The stench was getting stronger the closer he got to the pile of junk. And when he got down on hands and knees to look under the rubble, he suddenly found a pair of cat eyes intently staring back at him.

“Oh, hey, there, kitty,” he said good-naturedly. “Got stuck down here, did you? Come on out, cutie pie. Johnny will take care of you.”

The cat didn’t respond, but merely kept staring right back at him, brazen as dammit.

And that’s when Johnny thought he recognized the cat.

It looked like one of Marge Poole’s cats, the librarian he and Jerry had once done community service for.

“Aren’t you one of Marge’s cats?” he asked now. “So what are you doing down here, buddy?”

And as he reached out to grab the cat, it suddenly hissed then raised a claw at him.

Oops. Better let the creature be. And maybe give Marge a call. She was probably worried sick about her cat.

And as he took out his phone, he was careful to keep his voice down. Jerry wouldn’t like it that he called Marge. In fact his associate had given him strict instructions never under any circumstances to allow anyone to set foot down there in that basement.

Jerry always with his silly rules.

And then the call connected and he said,“Marge? Marge Poole? It’s Johnny!”

Chapter 37

“Does she spend a lot of time looking at the television?” asked Vena as she shone a bright light into Harriet’s right eye.

“Not really,” said Vesta as she watched the proceedings closely. “She does spend an awful lot of time on her tablet, though.”

Vena looked up.“Tablet? Your cats have their own tablet?”

“Oh, sure. They love it. Spend all their time playing games. You know the kind: where they have to follow a ball across the screen and try and catch it.” She didn’t want to tell Vena that her cats were a lot smarter than that, and actually spent their time surfing the internet, Harriet most of all.

“I don’t spendthat much time on my tablet, Gran,” said Harriet, who was in a bad mood, feeling that she’d been tricked into going to Vena, even though it was for her own good. “Besides, my eyes will be fine once I get used to my carrot diet.”

“Carrot diet?” said Vesta, and when Vena frowned, added, “Yeah, she’s been eating a lot of carrots lately. My granddaughter thought it was a good idea. For the eyes?”

“You’ve been feeding your cats carrots? Not very smart, Vesta,” said Vena, who was a forceful woman, built like an oxen and with a hale and hearty manner. “Cats aren’t rabbits, you know. No, I think she’s been spending far too much time on that tablet of yours and you should probably hide it in the closet for a while where she can’t get at it.”

“No more tablet!” Harriet cried, extremely dismayed. “But I need that tablet, Gran! It’s got all my favorite sites. Like Goop and US Weekly and Cosmo and TMZ!”

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t spend another minute on that tablet,” said Vesta decidedly.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with her,” said Vena, having concluded her examination. “So let’s hope that does the trick. Even though cats have superior eyesight compared to humans their eyes can deteriorate with age or because of disease. So I’m going to prescribeher some eye drops and please please please put her on her regular diet again. You can give her the odd carrot—but only if sheabsolutely loves them.”

“I hate carrots,” Harriet announced morosely. “I hate the taste and I hate the texture. It’s like eating a piece of cardboard.”

“So why did you eat them then?” asked Vesta, before realizing she wasn’t supposed to talk to her cats. She gave the vet a smile—the smile of a confused old lady who doesn’t know what she’s doing half the time.

“I ate them because I’d read—on mytablet—that carrots are good for the eyes.”

Vesta rolled her own eyes, then patted her cat on the back.“She’s a sweetheart, but sometimes when she gets something in her head, it’s very hard to get it out again.”

“She’s not the only one,” said Vena, who’d taken place behind her desk and was writing out a prescription. “In fact I think Harriet takes after you, Vesta.”

Vesta frowned and caressed Harriet’s fur. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Father Reilly told me you and Wilbur are about to tie the knot. Even though you’ve been stubbornly denying the news. So let me be the first one to congratulate you.”

“I’m not getting married!”

Vena cocked an eyebrow.“See? Stubborn, just like you, sweet Harriet.”

“Oh, for God’s sakes,” said Vesta, and gathered up her cat, her prescription, and stalked out.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Marge cursed under her breath when her phone chimed. She’d totally forgotten to switch it off. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she fumbled for the device.

“That’s all right,” said Randy. “It’s probably your husband.”

She picked up and said,“Tex, where are you?”

“Marge? Marge Poole? It’s Johnny. I think I’ve got one of your cats here. A black one?”

She placed a hand on her phone then said,“It’s about Brutus. Someone seems to have found him.”

“Oh, great,” said Randy, though he didn’t seem all that excited by this development.

“Hi, Johnny,” she said, well pleased. “Yes, this is Marge. Where did you find Brutus?”

“He managed to sneak into the basement. If you want I can come over and drop him off.”

“No, that’s all right. I’ll come and get him. Where are you?”

He gave her the address and she hung up after assuring him she’d be there in five minutes. But that was before she realized Odelia had gone out with Chase, taking her car, Vesta had gone out taking her car, and Tex had just left, presumably taking his car.

“Do you have transport by any chance?” she asked. “I need to go and pick up my cat. I’m so sorry for cutting our dinner short.” In fact she wasn’t all that sorry. Randy had been asking a lot of personal questions and she still hadn’t discovered anything of note about the man himself. Almost as if he didn’t want to talk about his personal life. On top of that she was worried about Tex, which put a damper on their nice dinner.

“Oh, sure, I’ll drive you,” said Randy. “Where is it?”

“Pete’s Pet Paradise,” she said. “Apparently Brutus slipped in through the basement window and now he can’t get out.”

She thought she saw a strange gleam come into the man’s eyes, but then it was gone. He offered her one of his trademark warm smiles. “So what are we waiting for? Let’s go and get your cat!”

Moments later they were cruising along the street, on their way to the pet store. Randy had once again donned a convincing disguise: this time he was wearing sunglasses and a ball cap.

“You look virtually unrecognizable,” said Marge admiringly.

“Years of experience evading the paps,” said Randy.

He parked across the street from the pet store, and she got out, followed by Randy.

“Oh, you don’t have to come,” she said. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

“No, it’s fine,” he assured her. “We are still on our date, aren’t we? So let’s pretend this is all part of the lovely evening you had in store for me.”

“An evening at the pet shop,” she said with a smile, and they both crossed the street at a little trot, avoiding incoming traffic.

The door to the pet store was open, so she pushed her way inside. The first part of the store consisted of plenty of fish tanks, just like the big one in the front window, and as they headed deeper, in search of Johnny Carew, Marge saw plenty of rabbits, gerbils, birds and even a snake slithering about in its cage.

She’d never actually set foot in there since the shop had changed owners. She hadn’t even been aware that it had reopened, nor that Johnny was now working there.

“Johnny?” she called out when she didn’t see any sign of life apart from the many pets. “Johnny, where are you?”

“Down here, Marge!” Johnny’s voice rang out.

She glanced back at Randy and gave him an apologetic smile. They set foot for the staircase that led into what looked like the basement, and she called down,“Johnny?”

“Yeah, just on come down, Marge. I’ve got your cat right here.”

She hurried down the stairs, eager to see her sweet fur baby again, and was surprised when not Johnny greeted her but Jerry, along with five giant tanks filled with water and… turtles. There must have been thousands of them.

“Hi, Jerry,” she said. “Where’s Johnny?”

“I’m right here, Marge,” said Johnny as he ducked up to her right, holding Brutus in his arms. “Look who’s here, kitty,” he said with a purr in his voice. “It’s your mama. Yeah, that’s right. Mama is here to come and get you, sweetheart.”

“Oh, Brutus,” said Marge, relief flooding through her. “Did you get stuck, sweetie?”

She moved to take Brutus from Johnny, but suddenly Jerry growled,“Not so fast.”

And when she glanced at the ferret-faced ex-con, she saw he was holding a gun, and pointing it straight at her!

Chapter 38

Dooley and I had arrived at the park and found ourselves looking out across the duck pond. As far as I could tell there was no sign of Brutus… or turtles, big or small.

“I don’t see any turtles, Max,” said Dooley, who’d noticed the same unmistakable absence of turtles. “Unless they’re very, very small, and they’re hiding in the water, in which case we can’t see them.”

“So let’s ask one of the ducks, shall we?” I suggested, and proceeded to address a nearby duck.

“Mr. Duck!” I said. “Any turtles around these parts that you know of, sir?”

“Or cats?” Dooley added.

The duck stared at us.“You have got to be kidding, right?”

“No, I can assure you that I am not kidding,” I said.

“Me neither,” said Dooley.

“This is a duck pond, cat,” said the duck. “No cats allowed.”

“I can see that,” I said. “And a very nice duck pond it is. So how about turtles?”

“Now why would you think that a duck pond would contain turtles?” asked the duck, who clearly wasn’t the avuncular type of duck.

“A friend of ours recently met a turtle,” I said, deciding to reveal all and leave nothing out. “And this turtle said she’d escaped from a pond where plenty of other turtles were also kept prisoner.”

The duck smiled, as far as a duck can smile. It’s a tough proposition since beaks are not all that conducive to displaying facial expressions. “Do you see any armed guards, cat?”

I looked around.“Um, no.”

“Any fencing? Preventing a stray turtle from escaping this apparent hellhole?”

“No, no fencing,” I said, starting to see what the duck was getting at. “So I assume there are no turtles being kept in this pond against their will?”

“You assume right, cat. There are no turtles in this pond, and even if there were, they would be free to leave, and I’d encourage them to do so at their earliest convenience.”

“Weird,” said Dooley as we walked on. “So no turtles and no Brutus. So where could he have found a second pond in Hampton Cove?”

“I don’t know about a pond, Dooley,” I said, suddenly remembering something, “but I know exactly where we can find turtles. And plenty of them, too.”

Now I know that we as a society should give the criminal element every chance to rehabilitate, but sometimes it is simply not feasible for these hardened folk to do that. Take Johnny Carew and Jerry Vale for instance. They keep getting caught for various crimes committed, and they keep promising the judge that they will change their ways and be good and law-abiding citizens from now on. Only to turn around and once more embrace a life of crime the moment they’ve changed their prison attire for their civvies.

I’m not saying it wasn’t possible for Johnny and Jerry to have opened a pet shop, but I’m saying the odds against such a contingency were staggering. And what pet shop sells thousands of turtles? There simply isn’t a market for a mass offering of the short and stubby species, am I right?

“I think I know where Brutus went off to,” I said therefore.

“To stop another wedding?” Dooley suggested.

“To try and be a hero to turtles.” Brutus had presumably decided to become the Nelson Mandela of turtle liberators, and had gotten himself in trouble as a consequence.

“You know, I was thinking that to stop Marge and Randy’s wedding all we have to do is paint Randy in an unfavorable light,” said Dooley as we hurried out of the park and in the direction of the pet shop I’d seen. “So all we need to do is ask ourselves what Marge doesn’t like in a man.” He glanced at me. “What doesn’t Marge like in a man, Max?”

“Um… she doesn’t like it when a man makes noises when he eats,” I said as a for instance. On more than one occasion I’d seen her give Tex a dirty look when the latter slurped his soup. “Or doesn’t pick up his laundry from the bathroom floor. Or leaves the toilet seat up. Or forgets toput out the garbage. Or forgets her birthday, or wedding anniversary.”

“That’s a lot of stuff. I think we can work with that,” said my friend. “So tomorrow we make sure the toilet seat is always up when Randy has visited the bathroom, that his clothes are left all over the bathroom floor after he’s taken a shower, and, um… I’m not so sure about the slurping sounds, Max. Though we could make slurping sounds and hopefully Marge will think it’s Randy making them. What do you say?”

“Look, Dooley—all these things are minor points of irritation. If Marge really loves Randy Hancock, no amount of dirty laundry on the floor or soup slurping will make her change her mind if she wants to marry the guy. But as we all know by now Randy is gay, so Marge can pursue the man as much as she likes, it won’t make much of a difference.”

“But… I’m gay, too, Max.”

I glanced at my buddy, wondering what he was going on about.

“In fact I think of the four of us I’m probably the gayest. But that would never stop me from marrying Marge—if I were a human or if Marge were a cat.”

“I…” Didn’t know what to say to that. “So you’re… gay, Dooley?”

“Oh, sure. You’re gay, too, Max, but not as gay as me. Harriet is not gay at all and Brutus is too serious to be gay. Though if he loosened up he’d probably be gay, too.”

I smiled.“I think you’re confused about the meaning of the word gay.” And I was about to explain to my friend that he might indeed be gay—except when he thought the sky was about to cave in and fall on his head—but he wasn’t… gay, when three dogs suddenly blocked our passage. They were, reading from left to right: Fifi, Rufus and Lil Ran.

“Oh, hiya fellas,” said Dooley. “Max and I were just discussing which one of us is the gayest, him or me. I think I’m more gay. What do you think?”

“Um…” said Fifi, eyeing my friend a little strangely.

“Max, we’ve been waiting for you for ages, buddy,” said Rufus, “and then we decided we couldn’t wait any more, so here we are. Now please tell us how to proceed in catching the people trying to kill Lil Ran’s human.”

“Yeah, your humans haven’t gotten any closer to the killers, so I’ve decided to take matters into my own paws and find them myself,” said Lil Ran. He gave me a sad smile. “It’s the least I can do for him.”

“Well, as a matter of fact we were just on our way to find Brutus,” I said. “So maybe you can join us and I can try to think of a way to help Randy, Lil Ran. How about that?”

“That sounds great, Max,” said Lil Ran. “Thanks.”

“Where is Brutus?” asked Fifi.

“I’m pretty sure he managed to get himself into trouble trying to free a colony of turtles from a pet store run by two crooks,” I said.

“And while we’re on the subject,” said Dooley, “maybe you can tell us how to stop Marge’s wedding to your human, Lil Ran. Now that you’ve had time to think about it, maybe you’ve come up with a couple of ideas? We were thinking of throwing his dirty laundry on the floor and leave the toilet seat up, but Max isn’t convinced that will be enough. So what do you think?”

And as Dooley explained his ideas on how to stop this wedding, we’d arrived on the street where Pete’s Pet Paradise was located. And even as we drew nearer, I saw Marge and Randy cross the street and moments later disappear inside the store.

Chapter 39

“Jerry! What’s going on? Why the gun?”

“I’m sorry, Marge,” said Jerry. “But I’m afraid you’ve seen too much.”

“Too much?” asked Marge. “What are you talking about?” Then her eyes darted to the five tanks filled with turtles and understanding dawned. “Oh, Jerry. You haven’t gone down the path of crime again, have you? I thought you and Johnny had found religion?”

“Oh, please,” said Jerry, appropriately raising his eyes heavenward. “They kicked us out after our first month.”

“We hadn’t managed to convert enough people,” said Johnny sadly. “They have a system of monthly targets, and we hadn’t managed to reach our targets for the month.”

“How many people did you convert?”

“None. Which wasn’t enough.”

“But… what’s with the turtles? Are you going to turn them into turtle soup or what?”

“Not exactly,” said Jerry, and cut a short glance to Randy, who still hadn’t said a word.

“Randy, say something,” said Marge. “Don’t just stand there. Speak up. Make them see the error of their ways.”

“I’m sorry, Marge,” said the famous fitness coach. “But I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“What?” She turned to the man. “What are you talking about?”

“Johnny and Jerry… well, they work for me, you see.” He sighed. “Jerry, put down that gun, will you? You’re making me nervous.”

“I don’t understand,” said Marge.

“Look, it’s like this—I’m broke, all right?”

“Yeah, I think we established that over dinner.”

“Did you have dinner with the boss, Marge?” asked Johnny, shooting her a radiant smile. “Gee, that’s sweet. So did you and Tex split up?”

“No, we didn’t split up,” said Marge. “And don’t squeeze my cat like that. He doesn’t like it when you hold him too tight.”

“Sure thing, Marge,” said Johnny, and let go of Brutus, who immediately skedaddled.

“You really shouldn’t talk to Marge, boss,” said Jerry. “Her daughter is a detective, and her brother is a cop, and so is her daughter’s fianc?.”

“Shut up, Jerry,” said Randy.

“Yes, boss,” said Jerry meekly.

“So is there money in turtles?” asked Marge, still mystified.

“Lots and lots of money,” said Randy. “These aren’t your regular turtles, Marge. These are exotic turtles that we managed to smuggle into the country from India. See, there are laws against importing exotic animals, and when you can circumvent those laws, the sky is pretty much the limit, as there are always people who will want to pay outrageous sums for those animals. This is just the first step in a bigger plan to supply the connoisseur of the rare and the exotic with all the species they need.”

“But… turtles, Randy? Really?”

“I’m telling you, Marge—these five tanks contain a fortune. Millions!”

She cast an eye over the tanks and the turtles contained therein.

Her face must have betrayed her skepticism, for Randy took his phone from his pocket and showed it to her.“Look, this is one bid for one single turtle.”

She looked, and when she saw the price her eyes widened considerably.“Oh, my.”

“Yeah. Big business.”

“But what about your career, Randy? You’re a hero to so many people. People like me.”

“Fat lot of good that’s doing me now,” he scoffed. “My career is over, Marge. I can’t give classes, I can’t tape any new videos, I can’t do nothing. In this game you’re only as good as your last video, and at my age, and with my wonky hips and my busted pelvis, I’ll never shoot another video ever again—or teach a class.”

“So… are you doing all this to pay the people trying to kill you?” she asked.

Jerry frowned.“Is someone trying to kill you, boss? Cause if they are, just tell us and we’ll—”

“Shut up, Jerry.”

“Yes, boss.”

Johnny giggled, and Jerry said,“Shut up, Johnny.”

“Yes, Jerry.”

“Look, I’ve got a confession to make, Marge,” said Randy, dragging a hand through his trademark curly hair. “There never was a threat. There never was a demand for ten million dollars. I made that all up.”

She stared at the man.“But… the video!”

“Yeah, I shot that video myself. Or at least I asked Floralba to shoot it.”

“But I saw them inject you with the toxin.”

“Toxin, boss!” said Jerry.

“Shut up, Jerry. Just an innocent saline solution. Look, I’m not proud of what I did, but I needed to get away for a while. Lay low. There’s people out to get me, all right, but not anonymous poisoners. Loan sharks, and drug dealers, and other people I owe a lot of money to. And since I’m famous I can’t go anywhere without being recognized.”

“You could have escaped to Mexico, boss,” said Jerry.

“Sure, if I had the money,” said Randy. “But I’m broke. I spent my last dime setting up this turtle farm, but it takes time for these fellas to grow so I can sell them. So I needed to lay low for a little while. And that’s when I saw that interview with Odelia.”

“And so you decided to use my daughter to hide from your creditors? Is that it?” Marge was starting to see the whole picture, and it wasn’t pretty. “Oh, Randy. That wasn’t a very nice thing to do.”

“I know, all right? But I had no other choice. I just figured—small-town amateur sleuth—nice ordinary family—I’ll hide away there for a couple of weeks—”

“Weeks! You said days!”

“I was going to send myself another video when the deadline was up, extending it.” He shrugged. “Buy myself some time.”

“Oh, Randy. You disappoint me.” Which was an understatement.

“I know,” he said. “And I’m going to have to disappoint you even more. Because now that you know my secret I can’t possibly let you go home and blab about it to Odelia.”

“I won’t,” she said immediately, suddenly realizing the predicament she was in. “I won’t tell her—I won’t tell anyone!”

“Yeah, you will.” He gestured to Jerry. “Lock her up, Jer.”

“Lock her up? But boss!”

“Just until I figure out what to do with her.”

“Randy, you don’t have to do this,” said Marge, retreating in the direction of the basement stairs.

“I’m sorry, Marge. I like you. I really do. But this is business. My only way out of the hole I’ve dug myself into. You understand.”

And just when she turned to try and make her getaway, she bumped into a large unmovable object in the form of Johnny.

“I’m sorry, too, Marge,” said Johnny, and pointed to the back of the basement, where a small room was located, crudely constructed from large cinder blocks. Moments later she was locked up inside, and as she sank down onto the stone floor, she wondered how she’d managed to get herself into this mess.

Chapter 40

“So… you’re telling me that the NYPD lab couldn’t find any trace of a toxin in the man’s blood,” said Alec.

“Nope. Not a single trace,” said Chase Kingsley, his deputy.

Both men were in Alec’s office at the police station, the Chief behind his desk, and Chase in front of it.

“Mh,” said the Chief. “Weird.”

“And they also checked out that video, and the conclusion was that it was sent from Randy’s computer. Now to be absolutely sure they’d need access to his PC, which they didn’t have, but I think it’s safe to say that either these are some ingenious hackers, or…”

“Or the person sending that video sent it from the man’s own computer.” Alec thought for a moment. “You know, in my experience sometimes the most straightforward answer is the right answer. So either we decide that these are extremely clever assailants, so clever they can inject a toxin into Randy Hancock’s blood that is undetectable even to the smartest minds at the NYPD, or…”

“Or no poison was ever injected.”

The cops shared a look pregnant with meaning, then Alec said,“I think it’s time we took a closer look at this Hancock character. What exactly do we know about him?”

“We know he’s broke,” said Chase, consulting his notebook. “We also know he’s an addict, and has wasted his entire fortune on drugs and a series of flings. And we know he’s up to his eyeballs in debt—and not to the banks but to some very nasty loan sharks.”

“So it would probably be a lot safer for him at your place than at his own house right now,” said the Chief.

“You don’t think he set this whole thing up, do you? To get away from the people he owes money to?”

“Could be,” said Alec. “I mean, these loan sharks don’t kid around. They’re into the moneylending business, but also in the breaking-your-arm business if you don’t pay up. So rather than having his arm busted, I guess he figured he’d lie low for a while.”

“Not having to pay a dime in hotel bills or food bills,” said Chase, starting to get a little hot under the collar when he thought about the deviousness of the man’s scheme.

“Look, we don’t know for sure that this is the case, but I think it’s high time I had a little chat with the guy. He’s still at your place, right?”

“Yep. And he’s told us that he doesn’t want to talk to the police, cause these bad people injecting that nonexistent poison wouldn’t like it.”

“Clever guy,” said Alec with a grin, and got up. “Let’s go over there now,” he suggested. “The sooner we get this thing sorted out the better. I don’t like the idea of a character like Hancock staying with you guys.”

“Or seducing your sister,” said Chase with a meaningful glance at his boss.

“What?!”

“Yeah, I caught the two of them last night. Not a pretty picture, Chief.”

“Let’s get the bastard,” said the Chief, gritting his teeth.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Gran was just returning from Vena with an irate Harriet neatly strapped in the front seat of the car when she happened to pass by the newly opened pet shop on O’Sullivan Street and saw Max and Dooley and no less than three dogs staring at the store window.

“Look,” she said. “It’s Max and Dooley and Randy’s dog. Wonder what they’re up to.”

And since she was just as curious sometimes as her cats were, she decided to park the car and take a closer look at what was going on.

By the time she arrived there, though, both cats and dogs were gone, and so she tried the door—as one does—and found it unlocked. So she darted a glance at Harriet, who shrugged, and they pushed inside the store.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Tex Poole, having driven around a little aimlessly for the past hour, found himself wondering where to go next. He couldn’t go home and face his wife having an intimate dinner with Randy, but he didn’t know where else to go. He’d never really had a serious fight with Marge—not serious enough at least that he’d have to go and stay at a hotel—but that was what it now looked like.

And he was just wondering if maybe he should sleep at his office instead, while he thought things through, when he happened to pass by that new pet shop on O’Sullivan Street, and saw Vesta and Harriet walk into the store. Wondering what the hell she was up to, and deciding that maybe now was a good time to tell her she was fired from her job as receptionist, he parked his car behind his mother-in-law’s, and got out.

Walking up to the store, he soon discovered the door was unlocked, so he pushed right on in. Under normal circumstances he would never confront Vesta like this, but he was in the frame of mind of a man scorned, and frankly he needed to unload, and Vesta seemed as good a person to unload on as any.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Chase and Alec were driving in Alec’s squad car on their way to the house, ready to give Randy Hancock the kind of grilling he’d probably never before received in his life. Alec especially was particularly incensed that this lowlife fitness trainer would dare to lay his hands on his sister, and was simmering gently all through the drive.

And they were just passing by that new pet store on O’Sullivan Street when he happened to see none other than Tex walk into the store.

“Look, it’s Tex,” he said. “I wonder what he’s up to.”

“Probably buying a gift for Marge,” said Chase. “Hoping to win her back from Ran-Ran.”

“You know what? I think we need to talk to Tex,” said Alec, and wrenched the wheel to park right behind the Doc’s car. It was only then that he saw Vesta’s car parked in front of Tex’s, and was starting to wonder if some kind of convention was happening.

“Talk to him about what?” asked Chase.

“I think it’s time Tex knew what’s going on between Marge and Randy,” Alec grunted and got out of the car. And then both cops were hurrying across the road, and moments later found themselves inside the pet shop, wondering where Tex had gone off to.

Chapter 41

When we entered that pet shop I thought for a moment we’d walked into a different world: there were pets all around us—which probably is a given since we were in a pet shop—and all of them were staring at us in dismay, as if surprised to see pets walk into their midst… without being inside a cage or (in the case of the goldfish) a fish tank.

“What are you guys doing here?” asked a gerbil.

“Oh, just looking around,” I said. “A friend of ours has gone missing, and we have reason to believe he might be in here somewhere.”

“What does he look like, this friend of yours?” asked the gerbil.

“Well, he’s black and built pretty butch,” I said.

“And he’s a cat,” Lil Ran added helpfully.

The gerbil visibly stiffened.“We don’t have any cats around here, I’m afraid. Or dogs. This is a store where only small pets are sold, not big guys like you.”

“I’m not a big guy,” said Fifi. “I’m small and I’m a girl.”

“You know what I mean,” said the gerbil with a shrug.

A parrot piped up, “We don’t like cats in here, cat. Because cats always cause all kinds of trouble. And we like things nice and quiet. So if I were you I’d beat it.”

“Not very friendly, are they?” said Dooley quietly.

“Cats aren’t always welcome everywhere,” I told him.

“If you’ve come to see the turtles,” said a snake, making a slight hissing sound as she spoke, “they’re downstairs. But be prepared, there are a lot of them. Or so I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, I saw the turtles,” I said. “But why are there so many of them?”

“That I can’t tell you,” said the snake.

“Oh, I know!” said a sad-looking bird with some very nice plumage. “The guy who owns the store is looking to sell them. Claims he can net millions for them. Millions!”

“And who owns the store?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer: Jerry and Johnny.

“I don’t know his name. The two guys who work at the store always call him boss. He’s downstairs now, though, if you want to say hi. Short guy with a lot of frizzy hair on top of his head. He just arrived with some blond babe.”

We all stared at the bird.“You’re not referring to Randy Hancock, surely?” I said.

“Like I said, I don’t know his name, but I recognized his voice. He’s been on the phone about a million times since I arrived, and he’s always asking about the turtles, and how they’re doing, and how big they are and how many orders they got for them.”

“He’s probably mistaken,” I told Lil Ran, who was starting to look a little anxious.

“I heard that, cat,” said the bird, “and I can assure you I’m not mistaken. Johnny always puts his boss on speakerphone, and I’d recognize his voice out of a thousand.”

We decided to ignore the bird’s strange conceit that Randy Hancock would own a pet shop. It didn’t seem credible. And Johnny and Jerry calling him boss? Impossible.

So we moved in the direction of the basement stairs, and made our way down. We soon found ourselves in that cavernous space where those large tanks were set up. The temperature was a balmy eighty degrees, presumably so the turtles would be nice and warm in their tanks, and immediately I glanced around in search of Brutus.

“Brutus?” I called out. “Brutus, buddy—are you down here?”

“Max?” a voice suddenly called out. “Max, is that you?”

“Brutus!” I said, and immediately made my way over to where our friend was holed up: underneath a pile of rubble and a collection of discarded old fish tanks.

“Max!” he said, sounding extremely relieved. “How did you find me?”

“Deduction, my dear Watson,” I said with a grin.

“Dooley, Fifi, Rufus, Little Randy!” said Brutus. “Am I glad to see you guys!”

“It’s Lil Ran now,” said the large dog with a smile, “but I’m also very glad to see you, Brutus. We thought you’d gone off on some adventure.”

“I did go off on an adventure,” said the black cat, “but I guess I bit off more than I could chew.” He gestured to the tanks. “My friend Pinkie is in there somewhere, and so are her friends. She asked me to help her free them, but then I got locked in here when Johnny Carew closed and locked the window and I didn’t know how to get out again.”

“So is it true what the pets upstairs said?” asked Rufus. “That they’re going to sell these turtles for millions?”

“Yeah, it’s true,” said Brutus. “And prepare yourselves for a nasty surprise. The guy in charge of this whole operation is—”

“Randy!” suddenly Lil Ran cried. He’d caught sight of his human, and was now streaking over to meet him.

Randy, whom I hadn’t noticed until now, came walking up to us from the far corner of the basement, followed by Johnny and Jerry. The fitness star looked as surprised to see his dog as Lil Ran was happy to see him.

“Hey there, buddy,” said Randy, then saw the five of us and his brow furrowed. “And I see you brought your friends with you.”

“Yeah, we were looking for Brutus, and Max found him,” said Lil Ran, even though his human couldn’t understand a word he said.

“He’s the guy in charge,” said Brutus, “and he’s just locked Marge in that room over there.”

We all gawked at Brutus now.“Wait, what?” I said. This, I hadn’t expected.

“Yeah, he explained how he lost his entire fortune and how he now owes so much money to some very dangerous people that he needed to lay low for a while as he set up this turtle farm. He hopes to make millions selling these turtles, and in the meantime he figured he could stay at Odelia’s placefor free, where no one would find him.”

“Oh, the bad man!” said Dooley.

We all turned to Randy, even Lil Ran.

“Is this true, Randy?” asked the Irish Setter. “Did you lock up Marge and did you set up this turtle farm to get out of debt?”

But of course Randy hadn’t learned how to speak the canine language in the ten seconds that had elapsed. Instead, he patted his dog’s head and said “Good boy. Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

“What do you want us to do with Marge?” asked Jerry, who was holding a gun, I now saw.

“I haven’t decided yet,” said Randy.

“We can’t let her go,” said Jerry. “She’ll blab to her brother the cop. Or her daughter the cop. Or her son-in-law the cop.”

“I really know how to pick ‘em, don’t I?” said Randy. “When they interviewed Odelia on TV they never mentioned her entire family consisted of the entire local police force.”

“We could always keep her here until everything is over,” said Jerry.

“And then what? The minute we let her out she’ll go running to the cops. No, we can’t risk that. I suggest we, um, make her go away.” He gestured to Johnny. “You take care of that for me, will you? You look like the kind of guy who’s done that sort of thing before.”

Johnny stared at Randy, then said,“Oh, are you talking to me, boss?”

“Who do you think I’m talking to, numbnuts? The walls? You get rid of Marge. And please don’t tell me how you’ll do it. I don’t want to know. Just do it quietly, and make sure the body is never found, all right?”

“But, boss. I like Marge. She’s good people.”

“And now she’s dead people. Just do it.”

And with these words, he started to walk away. Unfortunately his exit was blocked by Grandma Muffin, who had chosen this exact moment to show up, Harriet right behind her.

Chapter 42

“What’s going on here?” asked Gran. “And why are you holding a gun, Mr. Vale?”

“Lock her up with the other one,” said Randy.

“But, boss!” said Johnny.

“Lock her up I said! And get rid of her.”

“But boss!”

“Oh, do I really have to do everything myself around here?” He grabbed Jerry’s gun and held it on Gran, who looked a little startled.

“In there,” barked the fitness star.

“He’s a bad one, Gran,” said Dooley.

“Oh, I can see that,” said Gran.

Harriet, who’d joined us, said, “What’s going on? Why is Randy pointing a gun at Gran?”

“Because he’s a bad guy,” said Dooley. “He’s already locked up Marge and now he’s doing the same with Gran.”

“We have to attack him,” I said, eyeing that gun with a keen eye. Guns and cats don’t really mix. We’re not impervious to the odd bullet making a hole through our precious bods, and just like humans usually don’t respond well. So it more or less kept me from jumping on top of that frizzy-haired maniac and digging my claws in the way I wanted to.

Gran followed the instructions of the fitness guru and reluctantly entered the small room.“I’m going to tell my son,” she warned. “And he won’t be happy.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Randy, who was losing all the hallmarks of his usually sunny persona more and more. He slammed the door shut in Gran’s face then locked it. “So your instructions still stand,” he told his two associates. “Get rid of them and make sure the bodies are never found. Bestway to deal with this.” Once more he was making for the staircase and he probably would have walked out if not Tex Poole had walked in.

“You!” Tex said the moment he caught sight of Randy. “I want a word with you—you rat!”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” said Randy, and since he was still holding that gun, he now pointed it at the doctor. “I’m sorry, Doc, but you caught me at a bad time.”

“Is that a gun?” asked Tex, his eyes going wide as saucers.

“Excellent powers of observation. Get in there,” he said, gesturing to the small room that was really filling up now.

“I don’t understand,” said Tex.

“Who cares? In there, and be quick about it.”

“But… is this the toxin? Has it started to affect your brain? You’re not well, Randy. You don’t look well.”

“And why do you think that is? Your family keep showing up—get in there, Doc!”

And since it is rarely a good idea to argue with a man holding a gun, Tex did as he was told, and got in there. Under normal circumstances it probably would have been a happy reunion in that small room, but I very much doubt whether this was the case now.

“Is that it?” said Randy, starting to look a little frazzled. “Did we get all of them?”

“We got three of them, boss,” said Jerry. “Do you want us to—”

“Yes! Kill them all and make sure the bodies—”

“Are never found. Gotcha.”

“This is too much,” said Fifi. “This man is some kind of mass murderer!”

“And here I thought he was a nice guy,” said Rufus. “My humans always work out to his videos. They think he’s goofy and funny. He’s not so goofy and funny now.”

“Must be the drugs,” said Harriet. “If you take so many drugs for so many years, it affects your brain. It starts to go soft.”

“I don’t recognize my own human anymore,” said Lil Ran sadly. “It’s as if he’s been replaced by his own evil twin.”

“Randy has an evil twin?” asked Dooley. “I didn’t know that.”

“No, he doesn’t have a twin. I said it’s almost as if he’s been replaced—”

“What’s all this!” suddenly a voice boomed through the cavernous space.

And when we looked up, I saw that Uncle Alec and Chase had arrived on the scene.

“Oh, happy days!” said Randy, and pointed his gun at the new arrivals. “So glad you could you join us, gentlemen. Now if you care to follow me to your new accommodations.”

“He’s got a gun, Chief,” said Chase.

“I can see that, Chase,” said the Chief.

“We better do as he says.”

“I know.”

“Excellent advice!” said Randy, and gestured with his gun to the small room. “In there,” he barked curtly. “Hop to it. In you go.”

“Why are you doing this, Randy?” asked Chase. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

“Let’s just say it’s stress-related,” said Randy.

“But…”

“In there—now!”

Once the door was locked, Johnny gave his boss a pained look.“You don’t really expect us to—”

“Kill them all? Yes, I do. I’ll even give you a group rate. Five for the price of four!”

“That doesn’t sound like a good deal,” Jerry murmured. He didn’t look happy either.

Johnny and Jerry may be crooks, but they’re not killers, and to suddenly be forced to become mass murderers clearly didn’t sit well with them.

“Okay, well, if there’s nothing further…” said Randy. Droplets of sweat were trickling down his face, and his gun hand was shaking. “Here,” he said. “Have your gun back.” And he handed the thing back to Jerry.

“Let’s attack him,” said Brutus.

“Jerry’s got a gun,” I pointed out.

“He’d never shoot us,” said Harriet.

“I really don’t want to find out,” I said.

“And risk him shooting our entire family?”

It was one of those moments fraught with indecision. And while we worked out the odds we watched Randy Hancock walk away.

Chapter 43

Odelia had spent the entire afternoon at her office, trying to puzzle together the pieces that made up the Randy Hancock conundrum. She’d called around to gather more information on Randy’s background, and had discovered he’d recently bought an old pet shop and had hired two familiar people to run it for him: Johnny Carew and Jerry Vale.

And so now she was on her way to the shop, to find out why a man like Randy would get into the pet shop business.

And she’d just arrived there when the man himself came walking out of the store, looking extremely flustered, and sweating profusely. She almost bumped into him before he looked up and eyed her with befuddlement.

“Oh, hi, Randy,” she said. “I was just on my way over to talk to your employees.”

“Oh, you were, were you?” he said, mopping his brow with his sleeve.

She glanced beyond him, and now noticed three familiar cars parked across the street: one belonging to her grandmother, her Dad’s car, and her uncle’s squad car. Odd.

“So I guess you’ve decided to start a new career?” she said. “Pet shop owner?”

He smiled nervously.“Um, yeah. Since my other career is pretty much done for, I might as well try something completely different, you know.” He swallowed, then said, “I’m afraid I must be off, Odelia. Maybe we could do this later?”

“You hired Johnny Carew and Jerry Vale?”

“Yeah—yeah, I did. Why, you know them?”

“Oh, yes. Two reformed criminals. Very noble of you to give them a second chance.”

She was now completely certain something very fishy was going on here. But what? And how was Randy implicated?

“I-I really must be going,” said Randy. “So I’ll see you back at the house, okay?”

“Have you seen my uncle?” she asked, gesturing to the squad car. “Or my grandmother?”

“No–no I haven’t,” he said, starting to walk away.

“Something isn’t right, Randy!” she called out, but he was already starting to move away from her faster and faster, those short legs surprisingly quick off the mark.

And since she’d never been one to ignore her instincts before, she decided to follow the guy. And as she did, he glanced over his shoulders, and promptly broke into a run!

A man whose hips have recently been replaced with a pair of new ones, and whose pelvis suffered a nasty fracture, should never try to run away from a person less than half his age, with two healthy hips and ditto pelvis.

So it didn’t take long for Odelia to overtake the guy, and then she was launching herself at him, tackling him like a pro.

“Hey!” he said. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re going to tell me what’s going on,” she spoke in his ear, even as he darted anxious looks at her. “Why did you run away from me, Randy?”

“I wasn’t. I just felt like going for a run!”

“Bullshit!”

“No, it’s the truth, I swear! My doctor told me I need to stay fit. Every day like clockwork I go for a run, and you caught me just when I was going well. You really should get off me now. It’s not good for my hips—or my busted pelvis.”

“Tell me the truth, Randy.”

But instead of telling her the truth, Randy suddenly started squealing,“Heeelp!” Heeeeelp! Mugger! This woman is trying to mug me!”

Unfortunately for him Odelia was something of a local celebrity, and the people who stopped to help, instead of helping him get rid of Odelia, helped her pin the man down to the pavement, figuring that if she was making a citizen’s arrest, which is what it looked like, she had damn good reasons to do so.

“You can’t do this!” he squealed. “Let me go!”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” said Odelia. “And I think we better take this inside now. To the police station.”

Scarlett Canyon came hurrying up.“I saw what happened!” she said. “I saw the whole thing! He tried to get away from you, didn’t he, this scummy little man.”

“This scummy little man is Randy Hancock,” Odelia said with a grim expression. “And I’m pretty sure he’s up to no good—though he’s refusing to tell me what it is.”

“Oh, I know exactly what it is,” said Scarlett. “He’s been carrying on with your mother, that’s what! Behind your dad’s back. Confess, you filthy little worm of a man!”

“I’m not carrying on with no one!” said Randy, still flat on the pavement.

Odelia had taken out her phone and was calling her uncle. Oddly enough he wasn’t picking up. So she called the station switchboard, and got through to Dolores on the first ring.

“Hampton Cove Police Department,” said the raspy-voiced dispatcher. “How may I help you?”

“Can you send someone to pick up Randy Hancock?” she said.

“What’s he done?”

“I don’t know. That’s what you need to find out.”

“Apart from making some pretty weird and funky videos in the eighties and nineties I can’t see what he could have done, sweetie.”

“I think he’s involved with a pet shop,” said Odelia, casting around hopelessly.

“No crime in that as far as I know. Unless he’s doing something to the animals? Though frankly if he is I don’t think I want to know.”

“Just… arrest him already, will you?”

“No can do, hon. We don’t go around arresting people just because a member of the public asks us to.”

“He tried to get away! He was behaving very suspiciously.”

Dolores sighed.“Tell you what—I’ll get your uncle on the horn and ask him what he thinks we should do.”

“I just tried to call him. He’s not picking up.”

“Oh, he’ll pick up when I call him,” said Dolores. Moments later she came back on the line. “He’s not picking up, and neither is Chase.”

“My uncle’s car is parked across the street from the pet shop,” said Odelia, “and so is my grandmother’s car. And my dad’s car.”

“Some family meeting they didn’t tell you about?”

“Just send someone, will you?!”

“All right, all right. No need to get testy. I’ll send a car.” And she promptly disconnected.

“I’ve done nothing wrong!” Randy squealed. “Let go of me, you two-bit rent-a-cop!”

“You tried to screw over my best friend’s son-in-law by screwing his wife!” Scarlett yelled. “So don’t tell me you didn’t do anything, you… louse!”

“I did no such thing! I’m not even into women!”

“That’s what they all say.”

Chapter 44

“We need to get out of here,” said Vesta as she rattled the door handle to no avail. “If we stay here we’ll all get shot and our bodies dumped in a lake.”

“What lake?” said Marge.

“Who cares what lake!”

“No, but it could be a small lake or a big lake.”

“We’ll be dead, so it won’t make a difference,” Vesta grunted. “Alec. Do something.”

“Why me?”

“You’re a cop!”

“Yes, Alec,” said Marge. “You have to do something before they kill us and throw our bodies in a lake. Though they could throw us in a pond, of course. Much easier.”

“They took my phone,” said Alec sadly. “And my gun, too.”

“Just put your shoulder against this door and bust out,” Vesta suggested. “How hard can it be?”

“That’s steel, Vesta,” Chase pointed out. “Steel is pretty hard.”

“He might hurt his shoulder,” said Marge.

“When they shoot him it will hurt a lot more!”

“All right,” said Alec, and took a running leap, then hit the door with his shoulder acting like a battering ram. Only the door was made of sterner stuff, and didn’t budge. “Ouch!” said the Chief. “I’ve hurt my shoulder!”

“See?” said Marge. “What did I tell you?”

“Oh, you’re such a sissy,” said Vesta. “You give it a shot, Chase. You’re a lot tougher than my son. Just put your foot against that door and bust us out of here.”

“I’m not sure…” said Chase.

“Oh, come on!” So she proceeded to give the door a hefty kick. “Ouch!” she squeaked, and sat down on an overturned wooden crate to massage her injured toes.

“I’ll give it a try,” said Chase finally, and placed his foot against the door, as instructed. Only the door, which had at this point thwarted the joint attempts of a police chief and his aged mother, wasn’t giving in so easily, and stood firm against this latest onslaught.

“No joy,” said Chase sadly.

“I don’t understand,” said Marge. “Johnny and Jerry are crooks, but they’re not killers. I’d never have believed it if you told me they were about to make us dead.”

“Make us dead? Kill us, you mean,” said Vesta. She turned to Tex. “Can’t you do something?”

“What do you want me to do?” asked Tex, who’d said nothing throughout these proceedings. He was looking a little morose, Vesta thought, and she didn’t blame him. First he’d discovered his wife was having an affair with a fitness dude, and now this fitness dude was going to get them all killed. A man would turn morose for a lot less.

“You’re a doctor,” Vesta pointed out. “Can’t you pick that lock and get us out of here? I mean, you operate on people, don’t you? So why should a door be any different?”

Tex barked a curt humorless laugh.“For one thing, I didn’t bring my instruments, and for another, a door is not the same thing as a human, Vesta.”

“Why don’tyou pick that lock?” Alec suggested. “You’re supposed to be a pro at lock picking, you and your neighborhood watch.”

“There’s a learning curve,” said Vesta. “And besides, like Tex I didn’t bring the instruments of my trade.”

She had watched a whole lot of YouTube videos on lock picking and burglarizing, along with Scarlett, but so far hadn’t been able to pick a single lock. It was very annoying.

“What I don’t get is why Randy would suddenly have turned homicidal,” said Chase. “He used to be a fitness guru, and now he’s suddenly decided to become a serial killer instead? That’s a major leap.”

“Yeah, talk about a career change,” said Alec.

“As I understand it,” said Marge, “he spent all of his money on drugs and boyfriends, and now he’s broke and has gone into selling exotic turtles instead. Only there are so many loan sharks gunning for him he had to lie low for a while, until his fortunes turned, so he picked Odelia as the last place anyone would find him, not expecting her to be good at what she does, and now we’ve managed to figure out the truth of who and what he is, and since he can’t have any witnesses running around he needs us all dead.” She sighed a disappointed sigh. “And to think I thought he was thecat’s pajamas. The bee’s knees. The kipper’s knickers. The clam’s cuticles. He really fooled me.”

“I want a divorce,” said Tex now.

Marge looked up in surprise.“What?! What are you talking about?”

“It’s clear to me that you and Randy are having an affair.”

“We arenot having an affair!” said Marge.

“Yes, you are,” said Vesta. “Admit it, Marge. Harriet told me what Chase saw.”

Tex turned to Chase.“What did you see?”

“Well…” said the burly cop.

“Chase saw Marge and Randy,” said Vesta, “naked in his bed, hugging and canoodling, and Marge was crying tears of pure joy. Pure joy, Marge!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” said Marge.

“Exactly! You cried—loudly!”

“Naked and canoodling in Randy’s bed!” Tex yelled.

“I wasn’t canoodling!”

“But you were crying tears of joy,” said Vesta.

“Look, I wasn’t naked—only Randy was…”

“Oh, my God!” said Tex.

“From the waist up! He’d been admiring himself in the mirror. And we weren’t canoodling—he was merely… comforting me.”

“And you were crying,” Vesta said.

“Tears of ecstasy!” said Tex.

“They were most definitely not tears of ecstasy!” said Marge. “In fact they were tears of regret—regret that after twenty-five years of marriage the spark has gone out of our relationship. You don’t bring me flowers anymore, you don’t take me out to dinner anymore—you simply take me for granted and I’ve frankly had enough!”

“But… I bought you flowers today, and when I wanted to give them to you I find you having a romantic candlelight dinner with Randy!”

“Marge!” said Vesta, looking shocked.

“There were no candles involved,” said Marge, “and the only reason I was having dinner with Randy was because Odelia asked me to.”

“I knew it!”

“She wanted me to try and find out more about him—make him open up to me. So she suggested dinner, and I said why not. At least Randy appreciated me as a woman, whereas you just think of me as a cleaner, a cook, and the person who does your laundry!”

“But, Marge!”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. You want a divorce? Fine. I want a divorce, too.”

“Children, children,” said Vesta soothingly. “This is not the time or the place to talk about getting a divorce. Besides, we’ll all be dead soon, so who cares about divorce?”

“I’m sure the cats will think of something,” said Alec. “They always do, don’t they?”

Her son was right, but somehow Vesta didn’t see what the cats could do against two men and a loaded gun. Things looked pretty bleak, she had to admit, and for the first time in a long while she figured saying a little prayer might not be a bad thing right now.

Chapter 45

“What do we do, Max?” asked Dooley anxiously. “I don’t want our humans to die.”

“No, I don’t want them to die either, Dooley,” I said. But what could we possibly do? Jerry was holding a gun, waving it around a little haphazardly, pointing it this direction and that while he paced the floor like a madman. And Johnny, even though he didn’t have a gun, was far too large for us to attack and do some real damage. Besides, I didn’t really want to do him any damage. He’s a crook, but a likable one. Plus, he likes cats.

“We have to do something, Max,” said Harriet. “They’re going to shoot all of our humans and there will be no one left.”

“Odelia will still be there,” said Brutus. “She’s out there somewhere, so she’ll survive.”

“Oh, Brutus,” said Harriet. “You can’t be serious. You don’t mind if the entire Poole family is wiped out because at least there will be one Poole left standing? How can you say a thing like that?”

“No, I mean she’s still out there so she might be able to save the rest of her family.”

“Doubtful,” said Lil Ran. “How would she even know they’re in there, and how will she overpower these two criminals singlehandedly?”

“I’m very disappointed in your human, Lil Ran,” said Harriet now. “I always thought he was a little weird but generally a good person, but now it looks like he’s some kind of serial killer. How did you not see this coming?”

Lil Ran hung his head.“I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” he said quietly. “He wasn’t like this before. I mean, he was always a little eccentric, but not homicidal.”

“I think it’s the lure of the turtle money,” said Fifi. “Some humans are very susceptible to the desire for money and wealth. Makes them do silly things.”

“Like murdering an entire family,” said Rufus, casting a weary eye in the direction of the door to the little room where practically all of our humans were now locked up.

“What seems to be the trouble?” suddenly asked a small voice from nearby.

When we looked in the direction of the voice, I saw that it belonged to a tiny turtle.

“Pinkie!” said Brutus happily. “I thought you’d disappeared!”

“They threw me back into the tank with the others,” said Pinkie with a smile. “Took me ages to get out again. The life of a turtle is one that requires a lot of patience.”

Suddenly Brutus’s eyes went wide. “Pinkie!”

“Brutus?”

“Maybe you can help us free our humans!”

“Oh, sure. What do you want me to do?”

“Can you maybe crawl underneath that door over there and, um…”

“Yes?”

Brutus was frowning before him.“Um…”

“Yes?”

He shook his head in frustration.“I thought I had an idea, but now it’s gone.” He turned to me. “Max? You have a big head. Maybe you can come up with something?”

I glanced from Pinkie to the door to the water tanks and thought hard. Then I had it.“Do you think you can get your friends to help us out?” I asked the tiny turtle.

“Oh, sure. They’d love to help. Anything to get out of this nasty pond and back to the ocean where they belong.”

“So… maybe you can ask them to move that thick plank over there and squeeze it into that hole over there between those cinder blocks? And place that piece of wood underneath.” And as I explained to Pinkie what I thought might be a good plan to free our humans, she keenly followed along, then returned to the large basin she’d escaped from, and moments later we watched with interest how thousands of tiny turtles started moving out of the tank across the fishing net Johnny must have left there again, and then down the little stepladder placed against the tank and in the direction of the room where all of our humans were locked up.

It was a long shot, as our workforce was numerous but also very, very,very slow…

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“I don’t know, Jer. I’ve never killed anyone before, and I really don’t want to start now. And besides, Marge is good people, and so are the others in there—even those cops.”

“I know,” said Jerry as he nervously paced the floor. “Don’t you think I know? I’m not a killer, Johnny, whatever people say.”

“So what do we do, Jer? We can’t let them go, cause that would make Randy get all upset with us, and maybe kick us out, and we can’t kill them either.”

“I know—just let me think, all right? Just let me think!”

Johnny watched as his friend thought hard. In fact he thought so hard the veins in his temples were standing out, and he was starting to worry Jerry might suffer an aneurysm soon. And all for a measly paycheck. They weren’t even going to get paid in percentages but in one lump sum for their trouble.

“I don’t think I like Randy anymore, Jer,” he now confessed. “I think he’s gone a little loopy. Must be all those drugs. They must have addled his brain.”

“Will you just shut up?” said Jerry. “I’m trying to think here!”

“Oh, sure, Jer.” And he was quiet for a couple of seconds, until he thought of something else. “If we get caught this time the judge won’t be happy, Jer. We told him last time, we said, Mr. Judge, we said, we won’t never do it again, sir. This time we’ll be good. So I can tell you right now that when he sees us again he’s going to be very upset.”

“Shut up, Johnny.”

“Just saying, Jer.” He glanced over to the cats, and his heart wept. “Poor cats,” he said. “And poor dogs. Just look at them. They look so sad. What are they gonna do without their humans to take care of them? Who’s gonna feed them, who’s gonna need them? We can’t do this, Jer. It just don’t feel good.”

“Will you just shut up for one second?”

“Sure, Jer. I’ll shut up now.” And so he was quiet for another couple of seconds, then said, “And what about Odelia? How is she going to feel without a mother and a father and a grandmother and an uncle and a boyfriend? She’s going to be sad, Jer. And I like Odelia. I like her a lot. She’s got spunk, and I don’t want to make her an orphan, Jer. It’s just not right.”

“Shut up, Johnny!”

“Yes, Jer.” He thought about how they could get out of this mess, and even though he wasn’t used to thinking hard—he usually left that to Jerry, who had a head for that kind of thing—he suddenly thought he’d come up with an idea. “So what if we simply give ourselves up, Jer? I mean, if we rat out Randy now the cops will probably tell the judge not to be too hard on us, right? Lenient, as that nice judge always likes to say. And they’ll probably be happy that we didn’t kill anyone so they might just let us go and call it quits.”

“I don’t think they’ll do that, Johnny.”

“No, but maybe they will. That judge likes us—I could tell last time we were in court. He said to me, Johnny, he said, I like you, Johnny. I like your face, so I’m gonna be lenient, he said.”

“He didn’t say no such thing.”

“No, but he was thinking it. I could see it in his eyes.”

“Oh, Johnny,” said Jerry with a sigh, then finally shrugged and said, “You know what? I think you’re right, buddy. We can’t kill them so we just gotta let them go. It’s for the best.” And then he threw his gun to the floor. “I hate that I’m not a killer!”

But Johnny placed his large arm around his associate’s shoulder and said, “For what it’s worth, I like that you’re not a killer, Jer. And I’m sure Marlene likes it, too.”

Jerry looked up with a hopeful look.“You think so?”

“Oh, sure. In fact I think this whole episode might bring you and Marlene back together. When she hears what a good thing you did here today, I’m sure she’ll take you back in a heartbeat, Jer. And if she doesn’t, she’s a fool.”

“Don’t call my wife a fool, Johnny.”

“I’m sorry, Jer. I didn’t mean that.”

“I know you didn’t.”

And they both sighed with relief. They might be crooks, but they weren’t killers, and even though they’d miss a nice payday (not as nice as Johnny would have wanted) and would probably get into a heap of trouble with the law again, it was all for the best.

And just when Johnny was walking over to the little room to free their prisoners and give himself up, he saw that a very large number of turtles had managed to stick a plank into a hole in the wall of that little room, and were using it as a lever to make that wall crumble, just like the walls of Jericho that one time.

He watched the scene with surprise.“Way to go, little buddies!” he said. “Way to go!”

And since he didn’t want to spoil the fun, he stood back and watched things unfold.

Soon the wall did crumble, and the face of Grandma Muffin came peeping through the hole.

“Hey, Vesta,” he said good-naturedly. “Jerry and I have decided to let you go. We’re not cut out for this killing stuff. So what do you think?”

“I think that’s very smart of you, Johnny.”

“I knew you’d like it,” he said, well pleased, and proceeded to open the door.

Chapter 46

“Great plan, Max,” said Harriet. “Too bad those two crooks got cold feet and let everyone go.”

“Too bad? I think it’s great,” said Lil Ran. “Even though it will probably mean that my human will be in big trouble now.”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” said Fifi. “Your human will have time to think about the things he’s done when he’s in prison.”

“And those people who were after him won’t be able to get at him,” said Rufus.

I walked up to the little room now, and watched as Uncle Alec came walking out, followed by Chase and Gran. The only people who were still in there were Marge and Tex, and they didn’t seem to be interested in joining the others in their quest for freedom.

The turtles, on the other hand, had tasted freedom and were now redirecting their efforts towards the staircase, and moving up those stairs en masse. Soon they’d all be out in the street, and presumably start making their way back to the ocean, where they belonged. And a good thing, too, I thought.

But what was going on with Marge and Tex?

“You’re both under arrest,” said Uncle Alec as he patted his few stray wisps of hair, “for, um, robbing me of my freedom and, um…”

“It’s all right, Chief,” said Johnny. “I want you to arrest us, and I want you to tell the judge that we didn’t kill you when we had the chance.”

“Yeah, here’s that gun Randy got us,” said Jerry, and handed the thing over to Uncle Alec. “I’m very sorry but I couldn’t go through with it, Chief. I guess I’m not cut out for it.”

“I’m not cut out for it either,” said Johnny. “It’s just not something I see myself doing.”

“All right,” said Uncle Alec, looking a little surprised. “That’s really nice of you fellas. That you decided not to kill us, I mean. Very nice indeed.”

“I like you, Chief,” said Johnny. “You may be a cop and I may be a crook but that doesn’t mean I can’t like you, right?”

“And I like you,” said Uncle Alec. “So, um…”

“What’s going on with Marge?” asked Johnny, darting anxious glances at the little room, where the sounds of an arguing couple could be heard now.

“Oh, they’re going through a rough patch,” said Uncle Alec. “Chase saw Marge in Randy’s arms the other night, and Tex found out and now he wants to divorce her. But then Marge came back and told him she wants to divorce him for neglecting her needs all these years. So I guess things aren’t looking too good for them at the moment.”

They all turned to the little room, and Johnny said,“But that’s not good, Chief.”

“No,” said Uncle Alec. “But what can you do?”

“I should never have said anything,” said Chase. “I should have simply kept my trap shut. And this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Oh, it would have happened,” said Gran. “Didn’t you hear what Tex said? He caught Marge having a romantic candlelight dinner with Randy. So something was definitely going on between those two.”

“But… Randy is not a good match for Marge,” said Johnny. “No, he’s not,” he insisted when Jerry placed a hand on his arm. “I’m going to fix this,” he said decidedly, and before anyone could stop him, he had stalked up to that little room and disappeared inside.

And because cats will be cats, all of us joined him for this showdown, and even the dogs couldn’t stay away for once.

“But, Marge, what do you expect me to say?” Tex was saying.

“There’s nothing you can say, Tex. Nothing at all,” said Marge sadly.

It all reminded me of one of those Hollywood divorce dramas, invariably featuring Meryl Streep. It was all very sad, and I could already see a tear glisten in Dooley’s eye.

“Marge, you can’t do this!” said Johnny, entering the scene like a bull in a China shop. “You love Tex and he loves you. You have to work things out!”

“Too late, Johnny,” said Tex. “Marge has been having an affair with Randy Hancock behind my back. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive her.”

“I was not having an affair!”

“But you wanted to have an affair!”

“I wanted to feel that spark again, Tex—that feeling you get when you’re young and in love! That’s what I wanted!”

Suddenly Johnny lit his lighter.“Here’s a spark from me, Marge. Is that okay?”

Marge smiled at the big oaf.“That’s very sweet of you, Johnny, but it’s not exactly what I was talking about. It’s just that… Sometimes I feel Tex takes me for granted. That he doesn’t really appreciate me. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“I’m sorry, Marge,” said Tex. “I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I know how lucky I am that you’re in my life—and I know that the best day of my life is every day I get to spend with you. And it all started the day you said yes, and it still amazes me.”

“It does?”

“Of course it does.”

“Look, I wasn’t having an affair, honey. I just… was attracted to the idea of feeling in love again, I guess. Though clearly Randy isn’t the man I thought he was.”

“Clearly,” said Tex.

“Just take her hand, Tex,” said Johnny. “And apologize.”

“I just did,” Tex pointed out.

“Oh, that’s right. So maybe you can apologize, Marge.”

“Why should I apologize?” said Marge.

“Cause in my experience you can never apologize enough,” said the big lug.

“He’s got a point,” said Lil Ran.

“Yeah, I think he’s right,” said Harriet, and turned to her mate. “I want to apologize to you, sweetie pie.”

“What for?” asked a surprised Brutus.

“I take you for granted, too, sometimes. And I want you to know how happy I am that you’re in my life.”

“Oh, sweet pea,” said Brutus. “I’m very happy that you’re in my life. And I want to apologize for being a jerk sometimes. And taking you for granted.”

“Max, why are they all making me cry!” said Dooley.

Yeah, I was starting to get a little misty-eyed myself, actually.

“Marge, I’m so sorry,” said Tex, taking his wife’s hands in his. “Let’s start our weekly date night tradition again. Bring back that spark.”

“I’d like that,” said Marge.

“Now hug her!” Johnny loud-whispered as he gave Tex a light nudge. And since he was such a strong fella, Tex was propelled into his wife’s arms, and then they were hugging it out—and there was even some kissing, too, at which point I placed my paw over Dooley’s eyes, which probably wasn’t even necessary, as he was crying buckets now, and couldn’t see a thing.

“Now all we need to do is stop Gran’s wedding,” said my friend.

“Gran’s wedding?” asked Brutus. “Is that still happening?”

“It is,” I said. “Which means Dooley will have to go and live with her and Wilbur.”

“No way!” said Brutus. “She can’t do that!”

In the doorway, Gran had appeared.“How many time do I have to tell you? I am not getting married! Not to Wilbur—not to anyone! And if you all don’t get out of here right now I won’t be responsible for the consequences when I get really and truly pissed off!”

And as we walked out of that little room, Johnny wiping away a tear, and Marge and Tex in a tight embrace, suddenly Odelia came thundering down the stairs, followed by Scarlett, and followed by a small police contingent.

“Hands where I can see them!” one of the cops shouted. “Release the prisoners!”

Luckily the prisoners had all been released, thanks to two crooks having had a change of heart and the joint effort of thousands of little turtles.

Thus ended another eventful episode—and Randy Hancock’s career.

And as we emerged from that basement into the store, and then out into the sunlight, we all watched in awe how all of those turtles slowly made their way along the street, led by Pinkie, heading for the ocean.

Our humans acted as traffic wardens, and stopped traffic to allow the turtles to make the big trek, and Brutus waved to Pinkie, who waved back and said,“Thanks for everything, Brutus.”

“You’re welcome, Pinkie!” Brutus yelled.

“You can always go and visit,” Dooley said as Brutus teared up at the departure of his tiny friend.

“She lives in the ocean, Dooley,” said Brutus. “I can’t go and visit.”

“Oh. Right.”

“I’m sure she’ll come back when she’s fully grown,” said Harriet, giving her mate a gentle head bump, “to payyou a visit.”

“I hope so,” said Brutus. “We became friends, being locked up down there in that basement.” He then swallowed and added, “Thanks for coming to save me, you guys. It means a lot.”

“Of course, Brutus,” I said. “That’s what friends are for.”

“Thanks, Max,” he sniffed.

Life in Hampton Cove came to a full stop for a moment, as Pinkie’s family moved through town, kindly assisted by Hampton Covians.

It was a sight for sore eyes, and when the final turtle had moved beyond the horizon, Odelia returned to give us a ride home.

Epilogue

We were all gathered in the backyard of Marge and Tex’s home, the latter manning the grill, this time with the assistance of Chase, thus ensuring that the meat we ate wasn’t charred beyond recognition and unfit for human or feline or canine consumption.

The number of people and pets was pretty impressive: the entire Poole family was present and accounted for, of course, and their respective love interests in the form of Chase and Charlene. Gran’s friend Scarlett was there, and the pet contingent was represented by Rufus, Fifi and Lil Ran, alongside us four cats on the porch.

“So are you looking forward to going home?” asked Harriet.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” said Lil Ran. He was still a little sad that his human had been arrested, and would spend a considerable time behind bars, since dogs love their humans, regardless of whether they’re on the straight and narrow or as crooked as a corkscrew.

“And you’re sure this housekeeper will take good care of you?” Harriet insisted. Like us, she’d come to like and appreciate the smart and sensitive Irish Setter.

“Oh, sure. In fact she was the one who mostly took care of me before, while Randy was either out and about for his career, or out and about partying and getting wasted. She was the one who took me on my daily walks, provided my food, and generally was my constant companion—or I hers, depending how you look at it.”

“But… I thought she was a criminal, too?” said Brutus. “Wasn’t she the one who drugged you and shot that video of her employer being ‘poisoned’ and sent all those messages to Randy’s phone?”

“She did, but only because Randy convinced her it was the only way for him to stay out of trouble with the men he’d borrowed so much money from. She had no idea what he was really up to. She’s basically a good person, and did it out of loyalty.”

“I’ll miss you, Lil Ran,” said Fifi. “Dog choir won’t be the same without you.”

“What are you talking about? I still live in town, Fifi. I’ll still attend dog choir.”

The Yorkie’s face lit up. “You will? That’s the best news I’ve heard all week!”

“I think the best news I’ve heard all week is that Gran and Wilbur aren’t getting married and I can keep on living here,” said Dooley, snacking, like the rest of us, on some prime burger patties, courtesy of Chase Kingsley, who’d managed to keep his future father-in-law from ruining our meal—a heroic and much-appreciated effort.

“And I’m glad Marge isn’t going to marry Randy,” said Brutus. “I like Tex. He may not be the perfect husband, but he’s a damn sight better than Randy—no offense, Lil Ran.”

“None taken,” said the large canine. “You’re right. Randy will have to make a big effort to make amends. What he did to this family is terrible, and I’m glad he’s gone.”

He still looked a little sad when he said this, and I could understand why. If Odelia suddenly snapped and went nuts, I’d still love her, even if she had to go away for a while and become a ward of the state’s penitentiary system. I didn’t think that would happen any time soon, though.

She came walking over to us now, to dole out some more goodies.“So how are you holding up, Brutus?” she asked, giving the butch black cat a stroke of the fur. “Not missing your little turtle buddy too much?”

“It’s all right,” said Brutus. “I know Pinkie is happier where she is now, and that makes me happy, too. And maybe one day she’ll pay me a visit—when she’s bigger and stronger.”

“Let’s hope she does,” said Odelia with a smile.

And as we sat there, gazing out across the backyard, with our humans chattering and enjoying themselves, I once again realized how lucky we all were with the Pooles—and our friends. And how nice it was that we all got along so well. Cats and dogs. Cats and humans. Humans and dogs…

“Of course cat choir is superior, you silly mutt,” said Harriet with a laugh. “Dogs can’t sing, everybody knows that.”

“I beg to differ,” said Rufus. “I think dogs can sing much better than cats. At least when we sing humans sit up and listen, whereas when you guys sing, they start rooting around their closets for any old shoe they can throw.”

“That’s not true—you take that back, dog!”

“I can’t take back the truth, Harriet.”

“Guys, guys,” said Odelia, trying to interfene. “Let’s keep it civilized, okay?”

“But he insulted me!” said Harriet.

“Only after she insulted me!” said Rufus.

“So you decide, Odelia: who are the better singers: cats or dogs?”

“I’m not going to say,” said Odelia, getting up. “I’m not going to get drawn into this argument.”

“But you have to have an opinion, right? Just tell us!”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“Cats,” said Gran, wandering over, carrying her plate. “Cats are the better singers. Of course they are. They’re much more melodious.”

“Oh, you silly woman,” said Fifi.

“What did she say?” asked Gran with a frown.

“She called you a silly woman,” Harriet eagerly translated.

“You stupid mutt!” said Gran.

“Hey, that’s my dog!” Kurt Mayfield yelled over the fence. “Are you seriously calling my dog names, you silly old bag?”

“Who are you calling an old bag, you old coot!”

“Humans are the better singers,” said Odelia. “There. I said it. That’s my opinion. Take it or leave it.”

“Odelia! How can you say that!” said Harriet.

Okay, so maybe we don’t always get along—cats and dogs and humans, but at least we all love each other, right?

“I hate you!” Gran yelled, shaking her fist at our neighbor.

“Not as much as I hate you!” Kurt yelled back.

Okay, well, at least we don’t get physical when we don’t get along.

“Ouch!” said Gran when a nut hit her against the side of the head. “Are you really throwing my own nuts at me now?”

“A nut for a nut!” said Kurt, and threw another one and missed.

“What are you doing in my backyard, Kurt?” said Odelia, taking her grandmother’s side. “Get back to your own backyard.”

“I’m only looking out for my dog, since you kidnapped her!” said our neighbor.

“She came here of her own volition!” Gran screamed, and picked up one of Tex’s lesser experiments and threw it at Kurt’s head. It was a patty that had been cooked to the consistency of a rock, and hit the man in the face with a dull thunk.

“Max?” said Dooley as we now watched nuts and burger patties flying back and forth as the fight turned hostile.

“Yes, Dooley?”

“I think maybe it’s time to get out of here, before we become collective damage.”

“Collateral damage,” I corrected him, but agreed wholeheartedly with his assessment. And so we quickly skedaddled.

“Who do you think are the better singers, Max?” he asked as we walked into the house through the pet flap and took a seat on the couch. “Dogs or cats or humans?”

“I think they all have their merits, Dooley.”

“Very diplomatic of you, Max.”

“I mean it. And if we all sing together, I think we can create a beautiful harmony.”

He smiled.“You’re very smart, Max.”

“I don’t know about that, Dooley, but I do like a nice piece of music.”

And as we listened to the shouts and screams going on outside, we shared a grin.

“Not that kind of music!” my friend laughed.

He punched a button on the remote and the TV switched on. One of Randy Hancock’s old fitness shows was on, and after watching for a while, Dooley changed the channel. And as a cat food commercial started playing, we both settled in for the duration.

I hadn’t lied when I told Dooley I like all voices: dogs, cats, birds, bees, humans, dolphins, whales… turtles. We all have our own unique voice—and all of them precious. And when one voice falls away, it detracts from the harmony of the concert of life.

Or, um, something.

Hey, I’m just a cat—not a philosopher!

30. PURRFECT SETUP

Chapter 1

Odelia Poole had just entered the gym changing room after a satisfying marathon session on the stationary bike when a young woman, a teenager really, called out her name.

“Odelia? Odelia Poole?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re the reporter, right? The one who also works as a private detective?”

Odelia smiled.“Reporter will do. I’m not much of a detective, except by accident.”

“There’s something I need to ask, Miss Poole,” said the teenager, and glanced behind her, as if to ascertain whether they weren’t being overheard. She was probably around eighteen, maybe even younger, with fair hair and a light complexion. Her eyes were large and blue as she gave Odelia a searching look.

“What’s your name?” asked Odelia, who could sense that the girl was in some kind of trouble.

“Rose,” said the girl. “Rose Wimmer.”

“How can I help you, Rose?”

“I’ve been getting these messages, Miss Poole,” said Rose, taking out her phone.

“Odelia, please. What messages?”

Rose held up her phone and swiped it to life.“I have no idea who’s sending them but they’re very annoying. My boyfriend saw them and he says I should go to the police. But I really don’t want to get them involved.” She shook her head. “This is so embarrassing.”

Odelia, whose curiosity was now well and truly piqued, said,“Can you show me the messages?”

“Here’s one,” said Rose, and held out her phone for Odelia to see. “This is the one I got just now. They were sent to my Messenger. I was doing the Pilates class and I heard my phone buzz and I knew it was him. Don’t ask me how but I just knew.”

Odelia stared at the message. It took her but a short moment to realize what it was she was looking at.“Is this…” she began.

Rose nodded and bit her bottom lip nervously.“I’ve been getting at least one a day. It’s horrible.”

The picture showed a man’s undercarriage in all its dubious glory. “Um…” said Odelia, unsure of how to respond. “So who are they from?”

“That’s the thing. I have absolutely no idea. At first I thought Cole was sending them–that’s my boyfriend—Cole Donalds. But he swears up and down it’s not him.” Rose shook her head. “It must be some jerk I know from school. Has to be.”

“Can’t you block this person?”

“I did! Blocked and reported. He just creates a new account and starts sending again.”

“There’s no name? No other messages?”

“No, nothing. It’s disgusting, isn’t it?”

“Pretty gross,” Odelia agreed, who’d never been on the receiving end of these kinds of obscene messages herself, thank God.

Rose raised her eyes to Odelia’s. Her expression had taken on a pleading aspect. “Can you please find out who’s sending these, Miss Poole—Odelia? Please? I have to know.”

“I think I have to agree with your boyfriend, Rose. I think it’s best if you take these to the police. If you file a complaint they can trace these back to the person who sent them.”

“No police,” said Rose with a note of finality in her voice. “I’ve never been involved with the police and I don’t want to start now.” She clasped her hands together. “Oh, please help me, Odelia. I’ve heard so many good things about you. How you’re an ace detective and how you cansolve a mystery even when the police are completely stuck?”

That pleading look was affecting Odelia deeply. And even though she had no idea how to help Rose, she found her resolve weakening under the onslaught of the teenager’s insistence. “Oh, all right,” she said finally. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” said Rose, and promptly slung her arms around Odelia’s sweaty neck and gave her a bone-crushing hug. When she released her, the young girl’s eyes were sparkling. “Cole thinks I’m cheating on him, you see. He thinks I have another boyfriend and it’s him that’s been sending me these messages. If I can just prove to him that it’s just some weird creep…”

Just then, Jared Zmuda stuck his head in. The gym owner was dressed in his usual attire: Iron Man tank top and fluorescent shorts.“Just to let you girls know we’ve been having some issues with the plumbing,” he said. “So if you want to take a hot shower, better do it now, before the plumber gets here.” He gave them both a toothy grin and then retreated again.

“We better take that shower,” said Odelia as she opened her locker and took out her gym bag.

“So how do you want to do this?” asked the girl. “Do you need my phone or do I forward you these messages?”

“I think you better give me your phone so I can take a closer look,” said Odelia.

Rose handed her the phone with obvious reluctance. As was the way with many people, especially teenagers, obviously the girl’s world revolved around that small device.

“I’ll give it back to you as soon as I can,” Odelia promised.

“But how will you reach me?”

“Do you have a second phone? Or a regular home phone?”

The girl nodded, and gave Odelia her home address, phone number and the number of her boyfriend.“Best to call Cole, though. I don’t want my dad to know about this, or Daphne.”

“Who’s Daphne?”

Rose grimaced.“My stepmom. We don’t exactly get along. Not that I get along with my dad either. He’s a banker and obsessed with his job. But not too obsessed that he’s not always on my case.” She sighed an exaggerated sigh. “He doesn’t like Cole, you see. Thinks he’s not right for me.”

Jared stuck his head in the door again.“Final warning,” he said. “ETA on the plumber is ten minutes. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” And he gave the doorjamb a pat before retracting his head again.

Odelia placed Rose’s phone in her gym bag. The girl had opened her locker but hesitated then turned to face Odelia. “How… how much is your fee, Odelia? It’s just that… my dad may be loaded, but he’s really stingy. I do work weekends at Denny’s, and—”

“No fee,” Odelia cut into the girl’s explanations about her impecuniousness.

“Oh, but you have to let me pay you.”

“Look, I wouldn’t want to receive these kinds of horrible pictures myself, nor do I think anyone should send them to someone as young as you. So frankly I want to catch the bastard as badly as you do.” She smiled. “In short: I’ll be happy do this for free.”

Rose’s smile lit up her face and warmed Odelia’s heart. “Thank you,” she said, and clasped the reporter’s hands. “I knew you were the right person to ask. I just knew it.”

Chapter 2

“Max?”

“Mh?”

“What is a dick pic?”

I’d just been taking a liberal swig of water from my water bowl when Dooley hit me with this frankly shocking question. As a consequence I almost choked on my intake of my usual H2O and slowly turned to my friend, who was looking at me with that innocent look in his eyes which is so typical for him.

But before I could formulate a response, he went on,“I mean, I know it’s a picture of a man named Dick, but we don’t know any men named Dick, do we? So why is Odelia showing his picture to Chase right now, and why are they whispering?”

I glanced over to where our humans were conducting a whispered conversation at the kitchen counter, both intently looking down at something positioned on the counter.

Harriet, who’d overheard the conversation, gave me a cheeky wink. “Yes, Max, please tell us what picture of Dick Odelia and Chase are studying. Inquiring minds want to know.”

Harriet had until now been licking her precious white fur, but Dooley’s question clearly held enough intrigue to make her halt this favored pastime. Her green eyes were sparkling with mischievous mirth, and I gave her a hopeless look.

“I think you’re absolutely right, Dooley,” I said. “A dick pic is obviously a picture of a man named Dick, and if I’d hazard a guess this Dick person is probably someone related to either Odelia’s job or Chase’s.”

Dooley nodded sagely.“That’s what I thought,” he said. “I heard Chase use a curse word, Max, when Odelia showed him this Dick person’s picture, so Dick must be a man who did a very bad thing.”

“A very bad thing indeed,” said Harriet with a slight grin, and without further ado resumed her interrupted grooming session.

Her boyfriend Brutus, the fourth member of Odelia’s feline household, now came tripping up through the pet flap. Brutus is a butch black cat, and now looked slightly bored when he joined us. “Gran is watching Jeopardy again,” he announced. “And she’s yelling out all the questions. Much to Tex’s annoyance.”

Now that Dooley’s curiosity was satisfied, at least temporarily, it was time to satisfy mine. And as I directed a curious glance at my humans, still in whispered conference, I decided to hop up onto one of the kitchen stools and find out what they were up to.

The moment I did, the whispered conversation abruptly halted, and two pairs of human eyes quickly swiveled to the intruder in their midst: me.

“What do you want, Max?” asked Odelia, a little curtly I thought.

“Dooley says that you received a dick pic, and he wants to know all about it,” I said.

“Oh, dear,” said Odelia with an expressive eye roll. “I should have known not to bring Rose’s phone home.”

“Who’s Rose?” I asked.

“Rose is a girl I met at the gym,” she said. “And she’s been receiving these very offensive pictures… of a man’s undercarriage. She neither asked for these pictures to be sent to her, nor does she enjoy the experience of receiving them.”

“Who does?” Chase muttered. The lanky cop was staring intently at something on a smartphone that didn’t belong either to him or to Odelia. I could tell from the pictures of flowers pasted on the pink phone cover and the glitter with which it had been encrusted.

“And now Rose wants me to find out who’s been sending her these pictures,” Odelia went on. “She thinks it’s probably some kid at her school.”

“If I get my hands on the little jerk,” Chase grumbled as he flexed and unflexed a fist.

“So… have you found out?” I asked, darting a glance in the direction of the phone in question. But Chase was carefully shielding it from view, and probably that was a good thing, too. Frankly I’d never witnessed a human male’s undercarriage up close and personal and I honestly liked to keep it that way. Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.

“It’s not so easy,” said Odelia, as she took what was left of the pepperoni pizza she and Chase had enjoyed and deposited it into her mouth.

“Well, it is easy,” said Chase, “but it’s not something you or I can accomplish. But if I take this phone into the station tomorrow, and hand it over to one of our techies—”

“No way,” said Odelia. “I promised Rose I wouldn’t involve the police, and I intend to keep my promise.”

“She doesn’t have to know I took it,” Chase argued. “Heck, your uncle doesn’t even have to know.”

“You would keep this from my uncle?” asked Odelia with an amused look at her boyfriend.

“If all Rose wants is to know who’s sending her these pictures, and she doesn’t want to file a complaint or to press charges, I see no reason for Alec to get involved,” said Chase, referring to Alec Lip, Hampton Cove’s chief of police and also Odelia’s uncle.

“Mh,” said Odelia, considering this. “And you’re sure you’ll be able to find out?”

“Absolutely,” said Chase. “These guys are incredible. You hand them this phone and they’ll pinpoint the source of this creep’s nasty messages in a heartbeat.”

Odelia thought for a moment, then finally sighed.“It’s not as if I’ll ever be able to find out this guy’s identity. And the longer I stare at these pictures…” She shivered visibly. “I just wish I’d never laid eyes on them.”

Chase, in the heat of his argument, had placed the phone down on the counter, and I got my first good look at the object under discussion, namely Dick’s picture. I blinked as I stared at the thing. It was… a little disconcerting to be honest. And just then Dooley joined us on the only stool left, and immediately got an eyeful of Rose’s phone.

He frowned as he took in the picture in its full splendor.“Is that a sausage?” he asked.

Odelia, who suddenly noticed both her cats were intently staring down at the offensive image, quickly snatched the phone and turned it upside down.“Please tell me you didn’t see that,” she said with a groan.

“I saw a sausage,” Dooley announced.

Odelia smiled with relief.“And that’s exactly what it was, Dooley. A sausage.”

“So Dick sent your friend a picture of a sausage?” asked my friend.

Odelia swallowed.“Yep. That’s exactly what he did. Which is why we call him… Dick the Sausage.”

“So is this a game or something? For the newspaper?”

“Absolutely,” said Odelia, whose face was glowing crimson now as she tried her hardest to contain a peal of laughter bubbling to the surface. “Find the sausage. A new game Dan invented.”

“Oh,” said Dooley, and promptly lost all interest. After all, we all know humans are a strange breed, sending pictures of sausages to unsuspecting people. And as Chase pocketed the girl Rose’s phone, I decided to put the entire matter out of my mind.

It was much harder than I thought. The picture of this particular sausage was one of those things that once seen, it’s impossible to unsee, and I now truly wished I’d never hopped up onto that stool and stuck my nose in.

Chapter 3

I’d been dozing peacefully, not even a hint of sausages in my dreams I can proudly say, when suddenly Odelia’s phone started belting out its usual tone indicating someone wanted to have speech with her.

This is one of the disadvantages of being a reporter: anyone can call you up in the middle of the night with some important piece of information to impart. The same goes for Chase, of course. Since criminals rarely have the decency to commit their crimes during waking hours and instead like to do so under the cloak of darkness, it frequently happens that he’s called out of bed at some ungodly hour to investigate some crime.

“Is that Odelia’s phone?” asked Dooley who, like me, had been peacefully sleeping at the foot of our humans’ bed.

“I think so,” I said.

“Maybe she won the competition,” he said. And when I stared at him, he added, “The sausage competition? Maybe she won first prize.”

“Oh, right,” I said.

Odelia had already picked her phone from the nightstand where it had been blaring away and pressed it to her ear. With a muffled, sleepy voice she said,“Odelia Poole speaking.”

Chase was stirring, and Dooley and I were staring, and when suddenly Odelia sat bolt upright in bed, the cop flicked on the light and I could see that my human’s eyes were wide and her face wore an expression of profound shock. “I’ll be there right away,” she spoke into the phone, her voice suddenly a lot more crisp and snappy. “Have you called the police?” She glanced over to Chase, who was frowning and mouthing, ‘What’s going on?’ “Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell them to hurry. Yes, just sit tight, Rose, and whatever you do—don’t touch anything, you understand? Bye.” She disconnected and turned to Chase, dragging a careworn hand through her tousled mane of fair hair. “That was Rose Wimmer. Her dad died. She just found him sitting at his desk—dead. Looks like suicide.”

“Oh, my God,” said Chase.

And then suddenly both of them sprang into action. Like the well-oiled sleuthing team that they were, they swung their feet from underneath the covers, and moments later were getting dressed.

“Do you want us to tag along?” I asked.

“Sure,” said Odelia. “Let’s go.”

And then we were on our way, hurrying down the stairs, and out to Chase’s squad car. And before long we were racing along deserted streets, Chase keeping up a good pace.

“Do you think this has something to do with Dick’s sausage?” asked Dooley.

“I don’t think so, Dooley,” I said.

“Because it was the girl Rose’s phone that picture was on, right?”

I hadn’t thought that far. It was indeed the same girl whose phone had been inundated with obscene photographs whose dad now apparently had taken his own life. Somehow I doubted whether there was a connection between these two phenomena, though. Then again, you never know.

It only took Chase ten minutes to arrive at the house where Odelia’s friend lived. It was a nice big mansion, located in one of the leafy suburbs our small town boasts. And when we drove up to the front door, Chase parking his car in the paved courtyard, a young girl came hurrying out. Her face was teary, and she looked visibly distraught.

“Oh, Odelia,” she sobbed, and Odelia quickly enveloped her in a comforting embrace.

Chase, meanwhile, wasted no time entering the house. In the distance an ambulance siren could be heard, the one Odelia had called the moment we’d stepped in the car and set off on our nocturnal journey across town.

Dooley and I joined the cop and traced him through several well-lit rooms until finally we arrived in what was obviously Rose’s dad’s home office. Slumped in his chair behind a desk sat a large man, his chin resting on his chest. A desk lamp cast its light on his face, which had an eerie grayish tinge. His eyes were closed, and he looked peaceful. Too peaceful.

“Is he dead?” asked Dooley.

“I think so,” I said as we watched Chase carefully pressing his finger into the man’s neck.

“He looks like he’s sleeping,” Dooley said.

But Chase shook his head.“He’s dead, all right,” he murmured as his experienced cop eyes started taking in the scene.

“Poor man,” said Dooley. “He probably worked too hard. Working too hard will kill you.”

Odelia had entered the room, and joined her boyfriend in examining the banker’s office.

“There’s a note,” said Chase, drawing Odelia’s attention to a document on the desk.

Odelia leaned in, careful not to touch anything, and quickly scanned the document.

“What does it say?” I asked.

“It’s a suicide note,” said Odelia. “He says he’s sorry but that he can’t go on living like this. That he made a mess of things etcetera etcetera.”

“Poor guy,” I said. “Looks like you were right, Dooley. He worked too hard and couldn’t take the strain anymore.”

Just then, Rose came streaking into the room, still looking highly distraught.“The ambulance is here. Do you think they’ll be able to save him?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Odelia softly. She walked over to the girl, who stood staring at the inert figure of her dad with a strained expression on her face. Odelia placed her hands on the girl’s arms and said, “I’m afraid he’s gone, Rose. Your father is gone.”

She nodded, and tears slid down her cheeks.“Did you read the note?”

“I did,” said Odelia.

“I don’t believe it,” said Rose. “He would never do that to me—never.”

“I know,” said Odelia, and hugged the girl close again.

But Rose shook off Odelia’s embrace and said, with emphasis, “I mean it. Daddy would never kill himself. Never.” She then swept up two large tear-filled eyes to Odelia and said, emphatically, “He was murdered, Odelia. Murdered!”

Chapter 4

Odelia glanced around the office where Rose’s father had taken his own life. She could see nothing that would indicate murder. Next to the note the man had left stood an empty pill bottle.

“Sleeping tablets,” Chase said, following her gaze. Next to the pill bottle was a glass, also empty.

Odelia glanced up at Rose, who’d taken a seat in the corner of her dad’s office. “Does this house have an alarm system, Rose?”

“It does,” said Rose.

“Was it on?”

Rose nodded.“Daddy always made sure the alarm was on.”

“The front door? It was locked?”

“Yes. I know what you’re thinking. If the door was locked and the alarm was on, how can anyone have entered the house and murdered my dad. But I’m telling you that’s what must have happened. It just must have.”

“All right,” said Odelia. “We don’t have to talk about that now.” She crossed the room and joined the young woman just as Odelia’s uncle walked in, along with the coroner Abe Cornwall. “We better go and sit in the kitchen,” said Odelia as she escorted Rose out of the room. “So it’s just you and your dad, right? No one else in the house?”

They’d arrived in a large and well-appointed kitchen and Odelia opened the fridge to see if she could find something to heat up and give to the highly distraught Rose.

“Daphne is doing one of her party weekends,” said Rose, staring before her with unseeing eyes. “She left yesterday morning and is staying with a friend of hers—also an Avon lady.”

“Did you call her? To tell her what happened?”

Rose looked up at her with those big blue eyes.“No. You think I should?”

Odelia gave the girl a level look.

“Oh, all right, I’ll call her,” said Rose, and left the kitchen.

Odelia looked around. The kitchen was sparkling clean. Daphne definitely ran a tight ship. She opened the dishwasher and saw that a large blender beaker had been placed there, along with the other paraphernalia of smoothie-making delight. Everything had been washed. She looked up when Max and Dooley came padding into the kitchen.

“No pets,” Max announced. “Not even a goldfish. So no way of knowing what happened here tonight.”

“Poor girl,” said Odelia as she took a plate from the cupboard and started preparing a cheese sandwich for Rose. “Imagine walking in on your dad like that. Dead at his desk.”

“So did he commit suicide, you think?” asked Max as he idly walked the perimeter of the kitchen, clearly hoping against hope to find a bowl filled to the brim with kibble.

“It definitely looks that way,” she said. “Though I’m sure Abe will be able to tell us.”

“Rose seems to think her dad was murdered?”

“Murdered!” said Dooley.

“I’m sure that’s just her first emotions talking,” said Odelia. “She told me herself that the door was locked and the alarm switched on. Unless Chase or my uncle find traces of a breakin, it’s doubtful that the man was murdered.”

“It could be the sausage,” said Dooley knowingly.

“Sausage? What sausage?”

“The sausage on his daughter’s phone? Max told me all about how someone sent Rose a picture of that sausage and how Chase is going to find out who sent it.”

Max gave her an uneasy look.“I had to tell him. He kept asking me questions.”

“No, it’s all right. Dooley has a right to know.” She crouched down next to the small gray cat. “Look, I only told you that fib about the sausage competition so you wouldn’t worry, Dooley. But you’re right. Someone sent a picture of a sausage to Rose’s phone, and we need to find out who did it. But between you and me? That probably has nothing to do with her father’s death. Nothing whatsoever.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Dooley. “I think when you examine Rose’s father you’ll find that a piece of sausage got stuck in his windpipe and that’s what killed him.”

Odelia grinned and gave her cat an affectionate pat on the head.“Sure, Dooley. You called it, buddy.”

“I did?” he said, blinking excitedly. He turned to his friend. “Max, I solved the case!”

“Well done, Dooley,” Max grunted, though he didn’t look entirely convinced.

Uncle Alec came waddling into the kitchen. The few remaining hairs on his head were standing in all directions, as if he’d stuck his fingers in a wall socket, and his shirt was buttoned up the wrong way, but otherwise he looked as keen and alert as ever.

“Terrible business,” he grumbled. “At least the girl still has her mom to take care of her.”

“Her stepmom,” Odelia corrected him. “Did you know Dino Wimmer?”

“Oh, sure. I didn’t bank with him but I met him a couple of times. Decent fellow. Runs the local branch of First Financial Crest over on Downing Street.” He shook his head. “Killing himself with his kid in the house—knowing she’d be the one to find him. What was he thinking?”

“Clearly he wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Tell him about the sausage, Odelia,” said Dooley. “Tell him to look in the man’s throat.”

Uncle Alec smiled as he listened to Dooley’s meows. He bent down to tickle the Ragamuffin under the chin. “What are you all worked about, little fella?” he said.

“He thinks Dino’s death was an accident. That he choked on a piece of sausage.”

Uncle Alec frowned.“Choked on a piece of sausage? That’s very specific. How does he figure that?”

Odelia smiled.“I’ll tell you some other time.”

Rose walked in and took a seat at the kitchen table.“I called Daphne. She’s coming home immediately. She totally freaked out when I told her what happened.”

“Who’s Daphne?” asked Uncle Alec.

“My stepmom,” said Rose.

“Oh, right.”

“What’s going to happen now?” asked Rose. “Are you going to look for my dad’s killer?”

“Well…” said Uncle Alec, placing his hands on his voluminous belly and giving the young girl a slightly sheepish look.

“You don’t believe me, do you? I should have known.” She turned to Odelia. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe my dad would never take his own life.”

“Of course,” said Odelia. “Of course I believe you.”

“Then I’ll hire you. I’ll hire you to look for his killer.”

“Well, I don’t know if—”

“I’ll hire you right now. How much do you need? I’ve got savings. I’ve been working weekends at Denny’s for two years now, ever since I turned sixteen. I’ve got money.”

“Look, sweetie, I’m not a private detective. I’m a reporter. And right now the best thing would be for us to wait and see what the police investigation uncovers. I can assure you that my uncle and his team are very professional and dedicated to finding the truth of what happened here tonight.”

“No, they’re not,” said Rose, an edge to her voice. “I know they won’t look for the truth. They’ll say he killed himself and that’s it. I want you to find out who murdered him, Odelia. Just like you’re looking into those pictures.”

Uncle Alec looked up with a frown.“What pictures?”

“Some creep has been sending me pictures of his—”

“Private parts,” Odelia quickly cut in, glancing down at Dooley and Max. “And I promised I’d find out who.”

Uncle Alec shook his grizzled head.“The times we live in, huh?”

“Please, Odelia. I trust you,” said Rose. “You’ll find my dad’s killer, won’t you?”

Lucky for her, Odelia was saved from having to answer the young woman’s passionate but frankly impossible request by a platinum-haired woman of indefinite age storming into the kitchen.

“Rose, oh my God—Rose, honey, what happened?!”

And before Rose could stop her, the woman had grabbed hold of her and wrapped her into her arms.

“This,” said Rose with a smothered voice and a resigned look on her face, “is Daphne.”

Chapter 5

Rose had finally gone to bed. In the kitchen now sat Odelia, Chase, Uncle Alec and Daphne Wimmer. Daphne had supplied the small company with herbal tea, which everyone except Uncle Alec had gratefully accepted—he preferred his hot beverages a lot less healthy—and Daphne now recounted how her husband had been on a downward slope for quite some time.

In a corner of the kitchen two cats sat, having been supplied by a considerate hostess with enough slices of turkey to satisfy their immediate needs and then some.

They were both quietly happy, munching on their treats and listening to the humans discuss recent tragic events.

“I should have known it might come to this,” said Daphne, who was a woman with some heft, both in the physical sense and in the forcefulness of her personality. Odelia knew she was an Avon lady, and she could just picture her holding one of her sales parties, regaling her audience with great success on the many advantages of her wares.

“Your husband was depressed?” asked Chase.

Daphne nodded as she took a sip from her tea.“He’d been having trouble at work. Some financial dispute between him and his partner and co-manager, Romney Knight. I’m not sure what it was all about. He wouldn’t tell me. Said he didn’t want to burden me with company politics as he called it. But I could tell it was more than that. He was stressed and annoyed and hadn’t been able to sleep a decent night’s sleep for weeks.”

“Is that what those pills were for?” asked Uncle Alec. “We found an empty bottle of Zolpidem on his desk,” he explained.

Daphne closed her eyes.“I should never have allowed him to take those. But he said he couldn’t sleep without them.”

“You’re Dino’s second wife?” asked Chase.

“Yes. His first wife Trudy died eleven years ago. Cancer. I met Dino five years ago through one of my sales evenings.” She smiled. “Not that he was in the market for cosmetics or anything like that, but he wanted to surprise Rose and had no idea what to buy a teenage girl for her birthday, sohis secretary had dragged him to an Avon party and that’s how we met. He bought half of my supply that night, and we got to talking about Rose, and how hard he found it to raise a daughter on his own. One thing led to another and two weeks later we were on our third date and he was introducing meto Rose. We got married a year later.”

“Do you and Rose get along?” asked Odelia.

“Like gangbusters,” said Daphne. “I divorced my first husband because he didn’t want kids, but then never found a partner to start a family with, and by the time I met Dino I was too old to have them and had already accepted that I’d never have a family.” She gave Odelia a level look. “I love Rose, Miss Poole. I consider her my own flesh and blood. Even though she was thirteen when I came into her life, and by all accounts thirteen is a difficult age for a girl to have a new mom foisted on her, we got along from the get-go. We simply decided to make it work—mainly for Dino’s sake, at first, because he wanted it so much, and then because we wanted it for ourselves, too.”

“Rose has a boyfriend,” said Odelia. “A boyfriend her dad wasn’t too crazy about.”

Daphne smiled.“Dino was very protective. So when Rose showed up one day with Cole in tow, he freaked out. Cole is a musician, you see. An artist. A wonderfully talented artist. But listening to Dino you would have thought she’d brought home some kind of terrible monster. True, Cole is a couple of years olderthan Rose, but as I pointed out to Dino it’s obvious that he loves and respects our daughter, and that’s what matters.”

“It’s just going to be you and Rose from now on,” said Odelia. “How do you feel about that?”

“I won’t lie to you, it’s going to be tough, but I think in the end we’re going to be fine.” She glanced down at the table, and a tear glistened on her cheek. “Oh, sweet, sweet Dino—why couldn’t he have talked to me before…” Her voice broke off, and soon Odelia found herself rubbing the woman’s back as she dissolved into sobs.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

“I think they should get a pet,” said Dooley as we watched the sad scene.

“A pet isn’t going to replace Rose’s dad, or Daphne’s husband,” I pointed out.

“No, but it’s going to make them feel better,” said Dooley. “I’m not saying they should get a cat, though of course that would be the smart thing to do. They can get a dog, if that’s what they want. But they should definitely get a pet—either a cat or a dog.”

“I think it’s all very very sad,” I said with a sigh. “And all this could probably have been avoided if only this man Dino would have opened up to his wife. Why is it, Dooley, that men are such lousy communicators sometimes? Why is it that when they get in trouble they put on a brave face and suck it up?”

“Is this a rhetorical question, Max, or are you really asking me?”

“I’m really asking you, Dooley.”

“Well, I think it’s because the human male is flawed. Deeply flawed. I saw a documentary on the Discovery Channel about ants last week. Did you know that in an ant colony the most important ant is the queen? The males just run around building the colony and making sure the queen is comfortable and taken care of at all times. But humans seem to have everything backward. The human male seems to think he’s the number one—the star of the show. And that females are put on earth to serve him.”

“I’m sure not all males feel that way, Dooley,” I said, wondering if it wasn’t time to remove the Discovery Channel from Dooley’s viewing schedule.

But my friend wasn’t done yet. “So people like Dino Wimmer think they’re the star, and they act accordingly—heaping lots of pressure onto their shoulders. Until they collapse under the strain.” He shook his head. “Sad business, Max—extremely sad.”

“Well, at least no crime was committed,” I said as I placed my head on my front paws. Usually when Odelia has us come out on these outings it’s because some murder has been committed, and she relies on us to dig out precious clues and whatnot.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Max,” said Dooley. “Rose says her father was murdered, remember?”

“Yeah, but that’s just the emotion talking,” I pointed out. “I’m sure this was a suicide—plain and simple.”

“I still think it was the sausage that did it,” Dooley said.

I sighed and said,“Oh, Dooley.” And then I gobbled up another piece of turkey.

Chapter 6

The next morning Odelia arrived at the office bright and early. She’d already been outlining a piece about Dino Wimmer’s suicide to put up on the Gazette website when she walked in and was surprised to be greeted by a new face seated at the reception desk—a reception desk that hadn’t been occupied for God knows how long.

“Hi!” said the young woman, giving Odelia a cheery welcome. She was slim and trim and sported blue-rimmed glasses and generally looked like a secretary, not a reporter.

“Hi,” said Odelia. “I’m sorry but… who are you?”

“I’m Kimberly,” said the woman, and got up to shake Odelia’s hand. “And you must be Odelia. I’ve heard so much about you—couldn’t wait to meet you in person.”

“Oh, hey, Odelia,” said Dan Goory, joining them at the desk. “I see you’ve met Kimberly. Kimberly Moraga, this is Odelia Poole. Odelia, meet Kimberly Moraga, our new colleague.” The aged editor grinned behind his long white beard and said, “Step into my office a moment?”

So Odelia stepped into her editor’s office, wondering why he hadn’t told her he was hiring a receptionist, and took a seat in front of his desk.

“Look, if you needed a receptionist I could have done the job for you,” she said. “I mean, it’s not as if we get a lot of visitors, and it would have saved you money.”

“I didn’t hire Kimberly as a receptionist, Odelia,” said Dan as he turned this way and that in his swivel chair. “I hired her as a reporter.”

“A reporter? But…”

“I know, I know,” said Dan, holding up his hands in an appeasing gesture. “I said I wasn’t going to expand. I was going to slowly ease myself into early retirement so you could take over. Well, the thing is, Odelia, that I’ve finally seen the flaw in my reasoning.”

“The flaw?”

“Yes! Look at me!”

She looked at him and blinked.

“I’m not old, am I?”

“Um…”

“I’m only sixty-nine, Odelia. People live to be a hundred these days. And live well! Doctors, it’s amazing what they can do. I take my vitamins. I eat my vegetables. I can do this for at least another twenty or thirty years. So instead of winding down, I’m expanding!”

“Expanding,” she said, as she wondered if the man had lost his mind.

“Exactly! I’m going to distribute the Gazette all along the coast. I’m going to rename it the Hamptons Gazette. I’m going to hire more reporters, and correspondents, and salespeople, and I’m not going to stop until we’re the number-one selling paper on the South Shore!”

“Oh-kay,” she said cautiously. Yep, definitely gone completely bananas.

“So Kimberly is my first hire—straight out of journalism school, I might add. A bright and clever young lady with a promising future ahead of her. And she’s just the first of many, many more. Oh, and we’re moving into a new office.”

“A new office!” she cried.

“Yes! You know that new office tower they’re planning to build behind Town Hall?”

“Corinthian Tower?”

“That’s the one. We’re going to occupy an entire floor.” He rubbed his hands. “Oh, Odelia, I feel so energized I could jump for joy! Can you feel it?”

She could feel it, all right. Madness.“What?”

He took a deep breath, a big smile creasing his face, his beard waggling excitedly.“It’s a new era rolling in, baby. The Era of Dan!”

Odelia staggered out of the editor’s office, not exactly feeling energized as much as sandbagged. Before she could reach her own office—which soon wouldn’t be her office anymore—she was waylaid by the still chipper-looking Kimberly. The woman grabbed her hand and pumped it energetically

“Can I just say it’s an honor, Odelia?” said Kimberly. “A tremendous honor to be working alongside a reporter of your stature.”

“Uh-huh,” said Odelia, who didn’t exactly know what to say to that. “Thanks, Kimberly.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to learn a ton from watching you in action,” said Kimberly with a slightly frantic gleam in her eye. “Oh, and if you need anything, just holler. Anything for the great Odelia Poole!”

“Sure thing,” said Odelia, awarding the overly excited junior reporter a strained smile.

As soon as she was alone, she let herself drop down into her chair and wondered what her role in the future Hamptons Gazette would look like. Not that she begrudged Dan another twenty or thirty years of productive activity, but if he was going to fill up the office with an army of new recruits, what was her professional life going to be like from now on? Would she still be able to come and go as she pleased? Or would she get an ID swipe card or have to punch a clock from now on in this new‘Era of Dan’?

And as she booted up her computer, she didn’t even look up when someone strode into her office and took a seat in the chair across from her desk.

“Just leave it there, Kimberly,” she said, assuming the hyper-active and no doubt hyper-efficient new colleague had decided to bring the great Odelia Poole a cup of coffee.

“Leave what there?” asked a familiar voice. And when she looked up, she saw it wasn’t Kimberly seated at her desk, but Rose Wimmer.

“Rose!” she said. “How are you?”

The young woman shrugged.“Okay, I guess. Under the circumstances. I dropped by to pick up my phone.”

Odelia made a face.“Um, I don’t have it with me at the moment, but if you could come back later this after—”

“Forget about the phone,” said Rose, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “Did you think about my proposal from last night?”

“What proposal?” said Odelia with a frown of confusion.

“The job! I want to hire you to find my dad’s killer, remember?”

“Oh, that,” she said, sitting back as she studied the young woman’s eager face.

“Don’t tell me you won’t take my case, Odelia,” said Rose. “I know for a fact that my father didn’t kill himself, and I’m also sure that if you take a closer look you’ll absolutely agree with me that he wasn’t the kind of man to commit suicide. He just wasn’t!”

“Okay, all right,” said Odelia. “Look, the thing is—the police are still investigating. And if they decide that your dad’s death was suicide, I don’t see what I can do to dispute it.”

“But he didn’t do it, I’m telling you!”

“What makes you so sure? Apart from the fact that he was your father and you obviously loved him very much and you simply can’t wrap you head around the fact that he did what he did.”

Rose stared at her for a moment, a little taken aback, then said,“Just look into what happened, all right? That’s all I’m asking. Just take a closer look.” She abruptly got up. “Have you found out who sent me those horrible pictures?”

“Not yet,” said Odelia, who keenly felt she was letting Rose down. That couldn’t be helped, though. She wasn’t going to investigate a murder that had never taken place.

Suddenly Rose dumped several rolls of cash on the desk. They were held together with multi-colored elastic bands.“This is all I have,” she said. “My entire savings. Do you think it’s enough?”

Odelia shook her head as she picked up the money and handed it back to the girl.“It’s not about the money, Rose. I just don’t think—”

“Keep it, all right?” said Rose, suddenly sounding desperate. “Just… keep it.” And she turned to leave. Before she walked out, though, she turned and said, “He didn’t do it, Odelia. He just didn’t.”

And then she was gone.

Chapter 7

As Odelia left the office, she didn’t notice that someone was watching her closely. The moment Odelia slammed the door behind her, Kimberly emerged from the shadows in the corridor that housed the offices of both Odelia, the Gazette’s star reporter, and Dan, its editor. The junior reporter was frowning before herself. She hesitated for a moment, then entered the office of the wizened editor.

Dan looked up. He’d been chuckling to himself and now said, “I keep forgetting what a great writer I am. This latest editorial is a real pippin. Did you read it?”

“Yes, I did. It’s great,” said Kimberly, quickly plastering an ingratiating smile onto her face. “You know, I couldn’t help but overhear Odelia talking to this girl just now.”

“Girl? What girl?”

“Rose something. She was asking Odelia to investigate her father’s murder.”

“Rose Wimmer? Her father wasn’t murdered. He committed suicide last night.”

“Well, his daughter seems to think he was murdered. And she asked Odelia to investigate the murder. Offered her money and everything.”

“Well, that’s her prerogative, I guess,” said Dan with a shrug. “Odelia has been known to dabble in some amateur sleuthing from time to time. Guess the apple doesn’t fall from the tree. You do know her uncle is—”

“Chief of police. Yes, I know.” She grimaced. “It’s just that…”

The editor eyed her keenly.“Spit it out, young lady. I can see you’ve got something on your chest. What is it?”

“Well, isn’t all this amateur sleuthing as you call it bound to interfere with Odelia’s work for the paper? I mean, I don’t want to pry or anything, but she just left, presumably to investigate this murder business.”

Dan smiled.“I guess they teach you at journalism school that being a reporter is like being a regular employee, right? Put in your eight hours? Well let me tell you right now, honey, that that isn’t the case. If a story develops and requires you to hunt down some witness or lead, you will have to go aboveand beyond for the sake of your story.”

“But Odelia—”

“Just let Odelia be. She knows what she’s doing. Now did you arrange that interview with Mayor Butterwick for me?”

“Yes, I did, Mr. Goory,” said Kimberly, sobered by this rebuke.

“Dan, please,” said Dan. “Well, don’t let me keep you,” he added, a clear sign that the meeting was over.

“Thank you, Dan,” she said, and returned to her desk. She sat there for a moment, thinking things through, then got up again, and surreptitiously moved past Dan’s office—the editor was reading his own work again, judging from his fruity chuckle, and didn’t notice her—and quickly moved into Odelia’s office.

She sat down behind the reporter’s desk, opened her laptop, and started to read.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

It was one of those lazy days where nothing much seems to happen, and Dooley and I were walking along the sidewalk, with no particular destination in mind, when we saw Odelia come stepping out of her office and hurrying off in the direction of Town Hall.

“Must be tough to be a reporter,” said Dooley, who’d observed the same phenomenon. “Always chasing some story or following up some lead. Stressful.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I said. Oftentimes Odelia will be working on a case and insisting Dooley and I tag along, but since she didn’t have a case to work on right now, we were off the hook and I didn’t mind one bit, I have to admit.

“It’s not good for her blood pressure, you know,” said Dooley. “Or her general wellbeing.”

“She’s fine,” I assured my friend. “Odelia is young and in great shape, thanks to all those workout sessions she puts in at the gym.”

“Still,” said Dooley.

“Still,” I agreed.

“It would probably be better for her health if she’d quit that stressful job and found some other, more relaxing job.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Zookeeper,” Dooley said immediately. “It’s very relaxing, spending all your time surrounded by animals. You feed the lion, then you clean out the lion’s cage, then you feed the elephant, you clean out the elephant’s cage. All that repetition is soothing.”

“Entering a lion’s cage doesn’t sound like a very soothing thing to do,” I said. “It sounds really dangerous. And therefore stressful.”

“Oh, no. These zookeepers are professionals,” said Dooley, who’d clearly been watching another Discovery Channel documentary. “They know how to handle these animals. And since Odelia is already familiar with handling her pets, I think she’d be perfect for the job.”

“You better tell her that,” I suggested with a slight grin. “In fact you better tell her tonight. She could apply as a zookeeper tomorrow, and leave the stress and strife of being a small-town reporter and writing articles on pumpkin patch hayrides behind.”

Dooley’s face lit up with a smile. “I will, Max. Thanks. I thought you’d be skeptical.”

“Oh, I’m not. And I’m sure Odelia will be thrilled.”

Just then, an old lady was trying to cross the road, but couldn’t because cars kept zooming past her at a high rate of speed, ignoring her feeble attempts to attract their attention and let her pass.

“Will you look at that,” I said, shaking my head. But I was speaking to thin air, as my friend had suddenly skedaddled. Skedaddled in the direction of the old lady. He was meowing loudly, and as she looked down, suddenly Dooley started to cross the street, putting himself in harm’s way beforeI could stop him!

“Dooley!” I cried. “Dooley, no!”

Car drivers, as a rule, pay little to no attention to certain other occupants of the road, such as there are: children, old ladies, cyclists, pets… In fact anyone who isn’t driving a car. So when Dooley started crossing the road, instead of halting their progress they simply kept on driving. And as I watched, a large truck came rumbling down the road.

“Dooley!” I screamed as the truck made no attempt to stop.

Dooley was holding up one paw, like a traffic cop. Unfortunately he’s so small and that truck was so big he simply didn’t stand a chance.

I closed my eyes as the truck simply drove right over my bestest friend in all the world!

“You beast!” suddenly Dooley’s voice rang out, and when I opened my eyes again, I saw that he was shaking his fist at the truck who was now rumbling around the bend and soon disappeared out of sight. “You inconsiderate beast!” Dooley was saying.

“Dooley! I snapped. “Come back here now!”

Dooley came back here, and said,“He didn’t stop, Max. Did you see that? He didn’t stop!”

“Of course he didn’t stop. He probably didn’t even see you!”

“But how could he not see me? I was right there, motioning for him to stop!”

“What were you thinking!” I practically screamed. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”

And then I got it. Last night. The suicide. I’d once heard that suicides can be contagious. That when a celebrity dies, plenty of his or her fans jump off that same cliff, like lemmings—if lemmings jump off cliffs. I could be thinking of some other species. “Dooley, that man last night. He was very unhappy. That’s why he did what he did. You don’t have to do what he did.”

He was staring at me, confusion written all over his features.“What are you talking about, Max?”

“That banker from last night. Dino Wimmer. Please don’t jump off the same cliff, Dooley. Just because he did what he did, you don’t have to, see? You’re not him. You’re not a lemming!”

“I know I’m not a lemming, Max,” he said, giving me a curious look. “I’m a cat. And I was just trying to help that little old lady cross the road.”

Now it was my turn to stare at him in confusion.“Help her cross the road? But why?”

“Because I haven’t done my good deed of the day yet,” he explained. “Gran said that if I want to be a good cub scout I should do one good deed a day, like helping little old ladies cross the road. And when I saw this little old lady—where did she go?”

We both looked around, and indeed the little old lady was gone. And then I saw her: she’d safely reached the other shore and was now shuffling on to wherever she was heading.

“Please don’t ever do that again, Dooley,” I said. I held up my paw. “See this?”

“See what?”

“I’m shaking all over!”

“Why are you shaking, Max?” Then his eyes widened. “Oh, no. Is that what you’ve been trying to tell me? That you’re dying, just like Dino Wimmer? Is it cancer, Max?”

“No, I’m not dying, Dooley, but if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I just might. Of heart failure!”

“But I have to do a good deed, Max,” he said as we walked on. “It’s important.”

“But why? I don’t get it.”

“Gran and I watched this documentary last night. It was all about the Cub Scouts of America, and how they do good deeds all the time.”

“I think it’s Boy Scouts of America, Dooley. Not Cub Scouts.”

“Pretty sure it’s Cub Scouts. And I told Gran how nice it is that these kids—they call themselves cubs on account of the fact that they’re cute and cuddly, just like real cubs—”

“Pretty sure that’s not the reason they’re called cubs.”

“Pretty sure it is. So they do these things for their fellow man, see? And Gran said why don’t you follow their lead? You’re a real cub, not a fake one like these kids. So that’s when she made me take a pledge.”

“Gran made you take a pledge,” I said, not concealing my surprise.

“Sure. And you can, too. It’s very simple. You just promise to be a good cub from now on, and be kind to people and pets alike, and you’re on your way to making this world a better place. And isn’t that what we all want, Max? To make the world a better place?”

“Yes, Dooley,” I said, touched by his words of sincerity. “You’re absolutely right.”

“Look, there’s another old lady,” he said, pointing in the direction of Ida Baumgartner, one of Odelia’s dad’s most loyal patients. “Let’s help her cross the road.”

“Let’s not,” I said. “Instead, let’s help Odelia solve some case—next time she has a case to solve, that is.”

“You mean like finding out who’s sending pictures of sausages to her friend Rose’s phone?”

“Exactly,” I said with a smile.

Chapter 8

Odelia walked into her uncle’s office and found the big man seated behind his desk and scratching his nose, looking a little discombobulated. He glanced up when his niece entered and said, “I thought you’d be dropping by.”

“Have you got more news about Dino Wimmer’s death?”

“I have, but you’re not going to like it.”

“So it was murder,” she said as she took a seat.

“No, it wasn’t. He’d swallowed down those pills and that’s what killed him.”

“Oh,” she said, and frowned at her uncle.

“Yeah. Stomach contents reveal the remnants of what probably was a so-called smoothie, and enough sleeping pills to kill an elephant. The glass on his desk contained traces of the same smoothie and those same pills. Fingerprints on the glass are his. Fingerprints on the suicide note are his. So that’s it, Odelia. Case closed.”

“Okay.”

“See? I told you you wouldn’t like it.”

“The thing is, Rose just came to see me.”

“And?”

“And she’s still convinced her dad didn’t commit suicide. She seems convinced he was murdered. And now she wants me to catch his killer.” She heaved a deep sigh. “Problem is, there’s absolutely no evidence to back up her claim.”

“Do you want my opinion?”

“I do,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Uncle Alec grinned and patted his practically bald head, making sure those few remaining wisps of hair remained in the right place.“I think it’s only natural for a girl like Rose to be convinced her dad was murdered. I mean, what’s the alternative? That he killed himself and left her all alone? That’s very hard to stomach for anyone, and definitely for a girl as young as she is—practically a child.”

“I know. So what do you suggest I do?”

“You could tell her the truth: that her dad wasn’t the victim of a crime, and no matter how much you want to help her, you can’t take a case that’s only going to lead nowhere.”

“Or I could take her case, and prove once and for all that her dad wasn’t killed,” said Odelia.

“What’s the point, honey? You’re going to waste a lot of time proving something that’s already obvious from the evidence.”

She scooted forward in her chair.“So he died from the same pills that were in that pill bottle on his desk, right?”

“Yep, that’s what the coroner said.”

“What about the note? Did you check the handwriting?”

Uncle Alec hesitated.

“See? That’s what we need to ascertain so we can put Rose’s mind at ease. Make sure that all the facts align and that there is no room for doubt.”

Uncle Alec tapped the desk.“So you’re going ahead? You’re going to take this case?”

Odelia shrugged.“I feel like I have to. She’s so devastated by the loss of her dad. If only to put her mind at ease, I feel like I can’t just tell her to get lost.”

“No, I see what you mean,” said her uncle, then shrugged. “Fine. You do what you have to do, and if there’s anything you need, just tell me and I’ll see what I can do.”

“That’s great. Thanks, Uncle Alec.”

“Sure thing, honey.” He glanced out the window, and frowned. “Why is it that every time I look out this window I see those two cats of yours lounging on the windowsill listening in on all of my private conversations?”

Odelia glanced over to where her uncle was looking, and found Max and Dooley intently staring back at her, the way only cats can.

She laughed.“Oh, you guys,” she said as she walked over to the window. “So now you’re spying on me, too?”

She opened the window a crack and let them into her uncle’s office.

“Honey, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” said her uncle, but before he could stop her, Max and Dooley had already jumped down to the floor and were padding around, sniffing here and there, and generally making sure they were well acquainted with their new surroundings.

“Please tell me they’re not going to become fixtures here,” said Uncle Alec. “I’ll be the laughingstock of the precinct. They’ll call me the cat chief from now on.”

“Just for a little while,” said Odelia. “They like to get a feel for the place, and then they’ll be out of your hair.”

At the mention of hair, Uncle Alec sneezed.

“I didn’t know you were allergic,” said his niece with a grin.

“I’m not—at least I wasn’t. But maybe now I am?”

“So are you going to take the case?” asked Max, once he’d completed his examination of the office and found it to his liking.

“Yes, I am,” said Odelia. “There may not have been a murder, but clearly Rose thinks there’s something fishy about her dad’s death. And if only I can convince her that it was suicide and not murder, she’ll be able to move on.”

“I think he was murdered,” said Dooley, who’d jumped on top of Uncle Alec’s desk and was now sniffing at the Chief’s framed portrait of Mayor Butterwick, his girlfriend.

“You do?” asked Odelia. “How so?”

“I think he was murdered by the same man who sent that picture of a sausage to his daughter,” said Dooley. “I think we should be looking for Dick, Odelia. Dick is our guy.”

“There was no piece of sausage in his throat, Dooley,” said Odelia. “He didn’t choke.”

“Oh,” said Dooley, processing this.

“What is he saying?” asked her uncle, watching with a worried eye as Dooley placed his tush on top of his files and started licking himself.

“Dooley thinks we should be looking for Dick,” she said.

“Dick?”

“The man who sent Rose pictures of his sausage,” said Odelia with a wink to her uncle.

“Oh, right,” he said. “If I catch the bastard who sent those…”

“Any clues on his identity?” asked Odelia.

“Nothing. Chase handed over Rose’s phone to the brainiacs at the cybercrime unit. They’ll work their magic and hopefully come up with a name and address.” He grimaced. “At which point we’ll come down on this Dick like a ton of bricks.”

“Yes, nail this sausage man,” said Dooley sagely. “That’s my advice, Odelia.”

“Oh, brother,” Max muttered.

Dooley had taken a sip from Uncle Alec’s coffee, and suddenly sneezed—into the Chief’s cup. “Better don’t drink this, Uncle Alec,” he said, making a face. “This stuff will kill you.” And then he smiled at Max. “Another good deed done!”

Chapter 9

We finally had a case to work on—exactly what I needed right now, what with Dooley’s string of good deeds making me antsy and worried about his safety—not everyone responds with Uncle Alec’s equanimity at having their morning coffee spoiled.

“So where do we go next?” I asked when we’d walked out of the police station.

“Well, seeing as I need to disprove that Rose’s dad was murdered,” said Odelia, “and the only way to disprove a murder is to try to prove it and fail, I thought we might go and see a specialist.”

“An eye specialist?” asked Dooley, interested.

Odelia smiled.“I thought we’d go and see my dad. He was, after all, Dino Wimmer’s doctor, and might be able to tell me more about the man’s state of mind when he died.”

“Oh, right,” said Dooley, who was clearly firing on all cylinders today.

So we set paw for Odelia’s dad Tex, who has his doctor’s office nearby, and soon walked in to find Odelia’s gran seated behind the reception desk, busily enjoying a game of scrabble. It was a nice change of pace from her usual game of Solitaire, I must say.

“What are you doing here?” Gran snapped in her customary pleasant welcoming way.

“I need to talk to Dad,” said Odelia. She directed a curious look at the door to the inner office. “Is he busy?”

“He’s always busy. You’ll have to make an appointment.”

“Oh,” said Odelia, clearly disappointed.

“Why do you need to see him?” asked the old lady. “Are you dying? Do you have a disease you haven’t told me about? Is it cancer?”

“Cancer!” said Dooley. “You’re not dying, are you, Odelia?”

“No, I’m not dying, Dooley,” said Odelia, directing a censorious look at her grandmother, silently scolding her lack of tact. “If you must now, I’m working on a case.”

“A case? And you didn’t tell me? You didn’t tell your loyal sidekick? The Dr. Watson to your Sherlock Holmes? The Captain Hastings to your Hercule Poirot? And why, may I ask, is it that all these famous detectives are men, and their sidekicks, too? It’s not fair!”

She was right, of course, though in our case our main detective was clearly a woman, in the form of Odelia, and her sidekicks—plural—were cats, which was definitely a departure from the norm.

“Well, it’s not really a case,” said Odelia. “Well, it is and it isn’t.”

“Oh, please make up your mind,” Gran grunted irritably. “Is it a case or isn’t it a case?”

“A man committed suicide last night.”

“I heard about that. Dino Wimmer. The banker.”

“And now his daughter Rose thinks it wasn’t suicide but murder and she wants me to investigate and bring the alleged killer to justice. Only I’m not so sure she’s right. And so I’m going to try to prove that he was murdered and thereby prove that he wasn’t, see?”

Gran blinked a couple of times, then frowned.“You’re nuts,” was her opinion, and then hollered, “Tex! Your daughter is here to see you!” And then she sat back down behind her desk, watching with satisfaction how the door to the inner office was yanked open and a distraught-looking Tex appeared. His shock of white hair was tousled, and his face flushed.

“Odelia, honey. What ’s wrong? Are you all right?”

“She’s working on a case and needs your opinion,” Gran explained. “In other words she needs you to dish the dirt on one of your patients. Dino Wimmer—remember him?”

“Sure, Dino.”

“He died last night. Offed himself by popping a bunch of pills.” She gestured with her head to her granddaughter. “In you go. And make it snappy. We don’t have all day, you know.”

Odelia, if she was annoyed by her grandmother’s remarks, didn’t show it. Then again, if you’ve lived as long as she had in the company of the woman, probably nothing she said or did had the power to surprise her. So we all filed into Tex’s office and as Odelia took a seat and Tex rounded his desk and did the same, Dooley and I glancedaround, sniffing here and there and generally getting a good feel for the place. It had been a while since we’d been in there and it needed careful examination.

“So Dino Wimmer,” said Tex, folding his hands as if in prayer and resting them on his desk. “What do you want to know?”

“The thing is Dad, his daughter seems to think he’d never kill himself. She thinks her dad was murdered. Any thoughts?”

The good doctor frowned.“Thoughts…” he murmured. “Thoughts…”

“You know—what was his state of mind? Do you think he was in such a bad way that he wanted to end his life?”

Tex studied the ceiling for a moment, as if to draw inspiration from the dead fly that was stuck there, dangling from a single leg, the poor thing.“Um…”

“Look, I understand if you don’t want to tell me,” said Odelia. “Doctor-patient privilege and all that. But I just need to know if there’s even the slightest possibility that the man wasn’t responsible for his own death and that the suicide was staged. “

“Well, all I can tell you is that Dino Wimmer was probably the last person in the world to want to take his own life,” said Tex, finally having accessed that part of his brain where his patient files were stored. “Because he’d told me just last week that he’d made an important decision. He hadn’t told his wife yet but he was finally ready to take early retirement and move down to Florida to start a second, more leisurely stage of his life.”

“Florida?” asked Odelia, visibly surprised. “That doesn’t sound like a man who’d kill himself, does it?”

“No, it most certainly doesn’t,” said her dad.

“He didn’t have a recent health crisis or something? Some terminal illness?”

“Nothing of the kind,” said Tex. “The man was under a great deal of stress, owing to his line of work. But apart from a minor cholesterol issue and that stress—which he planned to resolve by taking early retirement and moving his family down to Florida—he had nothing to worry about. He was, all things considered, as healthy as an ox. Healthier, probably.” He smiled before himself, then eyed the cross trainer located in a corner of his office with fondness. “His wife sold me on this wonderful piece of machinery.” He gestured to the device. “Said I looked a little peaked lately, and told me I should be more active—work out more. So I bought this thing on her instigation and have been faithfully putting in my daily minutes in between patients ever since.”

Odelia smiled.“Dad, don’t tell me you’ve been working out?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I have,” he said proudly. “And my resting heart rate has returned to the safe zone. It’s a miracle machine, and I can recommend it to anyone.”

I noticed a small television set had been placed on top of one of the metal cabinets in Tex’s office, and was displaying an episode of Diagnosis: Murder. Looked like we’d disturbed Tex in the middle of a workout, which explained his flushed appearance.

“Look, Dino Wimmer was happy, healthy, and full of zest and zeal. The only thing that seemed to trouble him was the fact that his daughter was dating some weirdo, as he called him, and some minor trouble at the office, which he said he’d deal with forthwith. So if you’re asking me if the man committed suicide or was murdered, I’d go for the latter.”

“But who would want to murder him?”

“That,” said Tex as he spread his arms, “I cannot tell you, honey. That’s your department.”

On the small television screen Dick Van Dyke was staring intently at a knife which had been removed from a dead man’s back. It seemed like an ominous sign of things to come: if Dino really was murdered, this case had just turned into a murder inquiry.

Chapter 10

Odelia walked out of her dad’s office feeling a little heady. So it was entirely possible that Rose had been right after all. How surprising. But that also meant that she would now in earnest have to start looking for the killer.

She still found it hard to wrap her head around the fact that Dino Wimmer had indeed been killed. It changed her entire outlook on the case. And as she was still thinking through the ramifications of this discovery, she caught sight of her grandmother’s face. The old lady looked bored. Bored and unhappy. And so in a flash of inspiration she said, “I need your help, Gran.”

Gran immediately perked up. She even sat up straighter, as she’d been slumped in her chair, working out some scrabble dilemma. “You do? What do you need?”

“I think this case has just officially turned into a murder inquiry. And I’m going to need all the help I can get to bring the killer to justice—if indeed there has been a murder—the jury is still out on that one, so to speak.”

“You need my help catching a killer? Yes!” said Gran, actually pumping the air with her fist. “Tell me what you need and I’ll get it done. If you need me to squeeze some witness for information, I’ll squeeze him like a lemon. If you need me to lean on some heavy to give me the lowdown on the victim’s financial situation, consider it done.”

“I’m going to need to talk to all the people involved in the case,” she explained, “and to save time I think it’s best if we split up in teams. Could you and Scarlett maybe talk to Dino Wimmer’s neighbors? Ask them if they saw something last night?”

“Suspicious activities,” said Gran, nodding seriously. “I like your thinking, honey. And I’m way ahead of you. I’ll call Scarlett right away and we’ll start canvassing that neighborhood like it’s never been canvassed before. Consider it done!”

And without further ado, she grabbed her coat and was out of there, even before Odelia could supply her with some more details about the case.

And so when Dad stuck his head out of his office again moments later, and saw that the reception desk was unmanned—or unwomanned—he asked, “Where is your grandmother?”

“Um, I’m afraid I may have done something to deprive you of your receptionist, Dad,” she said sheepishly.

Dad shrugged.“What else is new?”

And as she walked out of the office, her mind was already whirring with possibilities. In fact she was thinking so hard she hadn’t even noticed Max and Dooley were still following in her trail, deftly trying to keep up as she took long strides in the direction of… She suddenly halted, and both cats bumped into the back of her legs.

“What’s going on?” asked Max.

“Why did you stop?” asked Dooley.

But since she couldn’t very well start talking to her cats in the middle of the street, lest someone call the loony bin, instead she gestured with her head in the direction of Main Street, and it was a testament to her furry friends’ perspicacity that they immediately caught her drift, and crossed the street on a trot in the direction of the General Store, where they could talk to one of their fellow feline spies.

Odelia, meanwhile, set foot for the local branch of First Financial Crest, where until yesterday Dino Wimmer had spent his days catering to his clients’ financial needs.

Once inside, she introduced herself to the young man at the desk and asked if she could talk to Dino’s partner, one Mr. Romney Knight. It only took five minutes in a comfortable waiting room, accompanied by a nice-looking fern who clearly was the strong silent type, and then she was ushered into Dino’s partner’s office.

“Yes, what can I do for you, Miss Poole?” asked Romney Knight. He was an imposing man in his late forties, impeccably dressed in a navy blue suit and sporting a Wolf Blitzer type beard. Odelia had never seen a banker with a beard before and she found herself staring at the hirsute appendage a few seconds longer than was appropriate. “Writing an article on Dino’s passing, I presume? All I can say is that we’re all deeply saddened. Saddened and grieving, as you can imagine. Dino was a remarkable human being, but above all a wonderful colleague with great business acumen and excellent standing in the local community. A pillar of our chamber of commerce, as you probably well know.”

“The thing is, Mr. Knight,” said Odelia as she took out her tablet and stylus, “that Rose Wimmer, that’s Dino’s daughter, seems to think her dad might not have taken his own life but might have been the victim of foul play.”

It took the banker all of five seconds to process this information, and then he frowned.“Foul play? You’re telling me Rose thinks her dad… was murdered?”

“She does. And she’s asked me to look into this possibility for her.”

The banker’s frown deepened. “Dino murdered. Are you sure, Miss Poole? I thought he’d taken a bunch of pills and… Though of course Rose will probably know better. She was there when…”

“Yes, she was in the house,” Odelia confirmed. “So do you think there’s a possibility that Rose is right? That someone killed Mr. Wimmer?”

“Murdered…” said Mr. Knight, clearly having to wrap his head around this possibility, the same way Odelia had had to do earlier. “Well, if he was murdered, I can’t think of anyone who’d have wanted him dead. The man was universally liked. His staff adored him, his clients—his wife anddaughter obviously loved him very much…”

“No trouble with a client? No threats made against his life?” she prompted.

The bank manager hesitated, then said,“One thing comes to mind. Not that I think it has any bearing on the case, but since you’ll hear it from a member of staff sooner or later, you better get the story from me. A client of ours recently applied for a loan—a sizable sum—to invest in a real estate project. A new office tower behind Town Hall.”

“Corinthian Tower?”

“Indeed. Now this man is a seasoned investor, with a long-standing relationship with our institution, so he came to us first. Offered us the opportunity to become a partner in this ambitious project. And Dino turned him down.”

“Who is this developer?”

“Leo Kemp.”

“I think I’ve heard of him.”

“Well, he is a respected member of our local business community.”

“Why did Mr. Wimmer turn him down?”

“He said it was too risky. There had been some… irregularities, and Dino was nothing if not a stickler for procedure and so these irregularities irked him to a great degree.”

“What irregularities were those?” asked Odelia as she jotted down the name of Leo Kemp on her tablet and underlined it three times with bold strokes of her stylus.

“I’m afraid I can’t divulge that. You see, the loan application has been filed again this morning, and is being reviewed as we speak.”

She stared at the manager.“And what are the chances of it being approved this time?”

The manager smiled an unctuous smile.“I’d say the chances are good. Very good indeed.”

Chapter 11

Just as Odelia left Mr. Knight’s office, she almost bumped into a familiar figure.

“Odelia Poole!” said the man, who was none other than Jared Zmuda, owner and proprietor of the Triple Platinum Gym—her very own club. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Hey, Jared,” she said.

“Gone to see the big guy, have you?” he said, pointing to the door of the office she’d just left.

“Yeah, I needed to see him about… something.” Even though she’d known the fitness club owner for a long time, she didn’t feel comfortable discussing her personal business with the guy.

He didn’t seem to have any such qualms, though, for he said, “I’m going to take out a loan. I’m going to expand the club. Build a second club and then possibly a third and a fourth.”

“Expanding, huh? That’s great news, Jared,” she said, and meant it, too. If business was going well that meant that the club was in Hampton Cove to stay, which was good for everybody.

“Yeah, I figured why not start a chain of clubs, you know? Maybe even a franchise. Put my name on the marquee.” He opened the file folder he was carrying and showed her a design for a logo. It was a stylized version of his face. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“Nice,” she said. “I hope they approve your application.”

“I’m sure they will,” he said. “The guy who went over the loans is gone, you know. Offed himself. And the one who’s taken over is much more lenient. Or so I’ve been told.”

The door to Mr. Knight’s office opened and the same secretary who’d ushered Odelia in before now gestured for Jared to step in.

“See you, Odelia,” the club manager said with a grin, then took a deep breath, and entered the inner sanctum of the First Financial Crest’s man up top.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Vesta and Scarlett were eyeing the house where Dino Wimmer had died the night before. Standing on the sidewalk across the street, Vesta felt it was a good idea first to get a feel for the neighborhood before they started their canvassing.

“Fancy place,” said her friend. Scarlett was dressed in her usual attire: ultra-short jeans skirt, high heels, and a crop top that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Vesta, on the other hand, was dressed in her regular tracksuit, this one of the blue variety with pink stripe.

She pressed her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose and nodded.“Bankers,” she said, spitting out the word as if it had personally insulted her. “They’re swimming in money. Don’t know what to do with it. Meanwhile the rest of us are working our asses off to keep a roof over our heads.”

“I think Tex is working his ass off to keep a roof overyour head,” Scarlett pointed out.

“Smart-ass,” Vesta grumbled, but the smile on her lips indicated she took her friend’s comment in stride.

“So how do you want to do this?” asked Scarlett.

“We’ll ask the neighbors if they saw something last night,” said Vesta. “This killer, whoever he is, must have come and gone, and it stands to reason he’s not the invisible man, so someone is bound to have seen something.”

And they were just crossing the street preparatory to ringing the bell of Baldwin Street number 46 when her phone chimed. She took it out and glared at the display for a moment before barking into the gadget,“We’re in position and are about to launch into our investigation—over!”

“You don’t have to say over, Gran,” Odelia said. “This isn’t a walkie-talkie.”

“I know that,” she said as she nodded a greeting to a woman walking out of number 46 and giving Scarlett a startled look.

“I think I just found our first suspect,” said Odelia.

“Oh? Who is it?”

“Dino Wimmer had recently turned down the loan application of a guy named Leo Kemp, local real estate mogul. I just talked to Dino’s business partner at the bank, and there’s every chance the loan is going through now that Dino’s gone.”

“Great motive for murder,” said Vesta approvingly.

“I’m sending you two pictures. One is Leo Kemp, the other Romney Knight—the business partner. So if you can show these pictures to the neighbors? Ask them if they’ve seen either of these guys hanging around the house in the last couple of days. I’m sending you the pictures now.”

“Will do,” said Vesta, and disconnected. “We’ve got our first suspect,” she said. “Fat cat who wanted to become even richer and found Dino standing in his way.” She quickly checked the pictures Odelia had sent her and showed them to Scarlett. Romney Knight looked like a taller, square-faced Wolf Blitzer and Leo Kemp was a big, burly individual with white hair and thick-framed glasses. He looked like Cary Grant had looked in the eighties.

“Handsome devil,” said Scarlett.

“Moneyand good looks. Some guys have all the luck,” Vesta muttered, and set foot for their first target of the day.

Chapter 12

Following Odelia’s instructions we were on our way to talk to one of our main sources of information: Kingman was seated right next to his owner Wilbur Vickery, proud owner of the General Store, right in the heart of town. Kingman is one of those garrulous cats and a collector of gossip. So if anyone would have the lowdown on what had happened to Dino Wimmer it would be him.

“Hey, fellas,” he said when we came walking up to him. He was enjoying a few rays of sunshine warming his voluminous body and clearly was in excellent spirits.

“A sausage man murdered Odelia’s friend’s father and she’s asked us to investigate,” Dooley blurted out, immediately getting to the heart of the matter without delay.

Kingman stared at him.“A sausage man did what now?” he asked finally.

Dooley took a deep breath.“A sausage—”

“A man was killed last night,” I said, deciding to take over the narrative thrust of the conversation before Kingman got all muddled up. As muddled up as Dooley obviously was. “He’s a banker and his daughter asked Odelia to investigate, since she doesn’t believe the official story that hetook his own life. Dino Wimmer. That name ring a bell, Kingman?”

“Rings many bells,” said Kingman, nodding. “I think he’s the one who built that big monstrosity across the street, and made sure that we only get sunshine in the summer months these days, and are shivering in the shadows come fall and winter.”

We all glanced across the street where the Hampton Cove Star stands proud and erect, our town’s most prestigious and popular boutique hotel.

“So he killed himself, huh?” Kingman went on. “He probably couldn’t live with the shame of plunking that pile of junk across the street. Did you know that before that horrible hotel opened its doors a perfectly nice little grocery store stood in its place? The owner was an old lady who usedto smile at me every morning as she opened her doors, and was known to tickle me under my chin when she dropped by for a chat with Wilbur.”

I glanced briefly at Kingman’s three chins and wondered which chin this old lady used to tickle him under, but decided to refrain from plumbing the matter more deeply. “So do you have any idea why a man like that would be the victim of a vile murder?” I asked instead.

Kingman frowned.“Oh, that’s right. You’re now claiming he didn’t kill himself but was killed.” His frown deepened. “Well, I can only point to one suspect, and he had plenty of reasons to do the deed, if you ask me.”

“And who might this suspect be?” I asked, my interest piqued.

Kingman gestured to his owner, who was ringing up the wares his customers had deposited on the conveyor belt with a kindly smile. Who wouldn’t smile kindly when money was flowing into the till at a rapid pace, due to that mysterious phenomenon called inflation?

“Wilbur?” I said. “You think your human killed Dino Wimmer?”

“No, I’m not saying he killed him—in fact I doubt whether Wilbur would ever raise a hand against anyone, whether man or beast. But you asked me for potential suspects and that’s the only potential suspect I can think of.”

“And why would Wilbur of all people kill Dino?”

“Because of what he did to Emily, of course.”

“Emily?”

“The old lady who owned the grocery store? I think between you and me that those two were sweet on each other, but then Dino came along and convinced Emily’s son to sell the store, and the son more or less arm-wrestled his mother into selling up and moving away. She’s in a nursing home now, Ithink, paid for with the profits from the sale of her store, as far as I can tell. And Wilbur lost the one great love of his life.”

“I thought you once told me Wilbur only dates women under the age of fifty?”

“Now he does, ever since the trauma Emily’s departure inflicted on his tender soul.”

We all looked up at Wilbur, who was now serving a young woman dressed in a crop top and ripped jeans. He was ogling her in quite an overtly fashion, and saying,“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the movies with me? I’ll make it worth your while.” He wiggled his bushy brows for emphasis, and even though the girl rolled her eyes at so much lasciviousness, Wilbur obviously wasn’t deterred, for he slipped her his card and said, with a fat wink, “Call me any time. Day or night. Though nights are better for me.”

“Yeah, why is that?” she asked, in spite of herself.

“Cause at night I turn into a love-crazed animal,” he said, and uttered a growl and clawed the air for emphasis.

“Oh, my God,” the girl muttered, and hurried off.

Yep. Wilbur definitely has a tender soul. No doubt about it.

Chapter 13

“So did you see anyone last night?” asked Vesta. She had a feeling they were about to strike pay dirt. Just a feeling, mind you, but she put great stock in her intuition, like any detective worth his or her salt would. Though so far she had nothing to show for it: the woman hadn’t recognized either Leo Kemp or Romney Knight. Still, hope springs eternal.

“Well, now that you mention it I did see a car drive away last night,” said the woman. She was the same neighbor who’d looked a little startled when she’d caught sight of Scarlett. She was still eyeing Scarlett with a look of consternation on her face, as if she couldn’t believe a bird ofsuch peculiar plumage had suddenly wandered into her ken.

“A car? What car?” asked Vesta.

“Well, it was a big car,” said the woman, who was gray-haired and obviously in possession of all of her faculties. “Not a lot of traffic passes through this street at night, which is why I remember.”

“A big car? What make?” asked Vesta, urging the woman to dig deep into her memory for those salient facts that make all the difference in a murder case.

“Um, a fancy car?” the woman tried.

“American, European, Japanese? Ford, Mercedes, BMW? Sedan, hatchback, SUV?”

The woman blinked.“I’m not sure,” she said. “All I know is that I was thinking well look at that nice car driving away. And I remember telling Earl that Dino was having over some fancy visitors again. But then that’s been par for the course ever since he moved in next door. Bankers do have a very busy social life, of course, what with all of their banker friends, and most of them drive those nice and fancy cars.”

Vesta sighed. It was obvious here was one of those witnesses that were trying to be helpful but really weren’t. “What color was this car? And did you see the driver?”

“No, I don’t think I did.”

“The color?” Scarlett prompted.

“Um, dark, I guess. I didn’t really pay all that much attention. Matlock was on, and I do like myself a nice episode of Matlock. He’s so clever and so funny. He’s on every day now, and I haven’t missed an episode. It was only because Earl complained about a dog barking in the street that I got up to take a look. And that’s when I saw that car.”

“What time was this?” asked Vesta.

“Well, Matlock starts at ten, so this would have been during the first commercial break. Ten fifteen? Ten twenty? Something like that.”

“Okay, great,” said Vesta. “Did you get all that?” she asked, as she watched her friend taking all this down by typing it into her phone.

“How you can type with those long nails is beyond me,” said the woman as she stared at Scarlett’s admittedly very long nails. “Are those real?”

Scarlett glanced down at her chest, misinterpreting the woman’s look. “Oh, sure. They’re one hundred percent real.” And for good measure she jiggled her frontage for a moment, causing the woman to clasp a hand to her face and shake her head.

“If Earl saw that he’d go nuts. He likes jiggly things, you see, Earl does. Likes to squeeze them between his jaws. And let me tell you, once he catches a jiggly thing he won’t let go.”